by Jann Rowland
“I apologize, sir,” said Mr. Darcy. The twinkle in his eye almost caused Elizabeth to laugh—the two men were quite familiar with the other’s feelings on the matter, and they were putting a show on for the entire room. “But I am certain you would agree with me that the key to happy life is to make certain your wife is happy.”
Mr. Bennet could not hold back a laugh. “Sage words, indeed, Mr. Darcy. I can see you will do well with my Lizzy.”
“Of course, they will do well!” cried Mr. Bennet. “Lizzy is an intelligent, happy sort of girl, Mr. Darcy. I am certain she will do you proud.”
“I am certain she will,” replied Mr. Darcy, turning to gaze at Elizabeth, his heart in his eyes. Elizabeth returned it with the same emotion as that which was offered. Yes, she was certain they would do well together.
“You know, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “there has been much coincidence in my life of late.”
Mr. Darcy had the grace to look abashed, but Elizabeth only smiled at him. “Though I was not certain what to make of it at first, this latest coincidence has saved my family from infamy and disgrace, and I am happy for it. May all our future coincidences be as fortunate as this one was.”
“I can only agree to that, my dear Miss Elizabeth,” replied Mr. Darcy.
Epilogue
“I am still amazed you refer to this . . . place as a hunting lodge, Mr. Darcy.”
“That is exactly the purpose for which my great grandfather purchased it, Mrs. Darcy. He was an avid hunter, you see, and the lakes are renowned for all such activities.”
“They must have been quite large parties. This ‘lodge’ has enough bedrooms for all my family to stay in comfort, and that is no mean feat. You do recall that I have five sisters.”
“As I understand, my grandfather had a large party of friends. He would host them all every year, and they would spend several weeks here, though it is debatable how much time they actually spent hunting, given the extent of the wine cellar.”
They each gazed at each other for some moments before they burst into laughter. Lydia was often known to complain that they did that frequently without any warning or reason, but Elizabeth did not concern herself much with her sister’s opinion. Someday, if Lydia was very fortunate, she would know the joys of a true meeting of the minds with her spouse, but then only if she listened to their council despite her headstrong ways. The other members of the family found it endearing, and indulged their obvious felicity with amusement.
“I assume you approve of the place?” asked Mr. Darcy—William, as she called him now.
“As I once told you with respect to our home, I doubt there are many who would not approve. I hope you plan to use this lodge as more than just a hunting retreat in the future. I believe I would be happy if we visited frequently.”
“My dearest wife,” said William, “I am not much of a hunter, as you well know. I am not Hurst. And you are aware of how much I love to oblige you. I am certain our children will one day enjoy visits here as much as we do.”
Elizabeth smiled and dropped her hand to her stomach, where, beneath her heart, the first of the next generation of Darcys now slept. Though she had been concerned when several months had passed after their marriage and still she had not fallen with child, William had been unconcerned, stating that children would come in due time, and that for the present, he was happy to have her to himself. Still, Elizabeth had been relieved when she had noticed the absence of her courses. She had felt the quickening only the week before, as they were preparing for their departure. They had yet to announce it, however, which they were planning to do that very evening.
“You had best take this opportunity to relax, Husband,” said Elizabeth. “Once the summer is over, we must begin preparations for Georgiana and Kitty’s coming out in earnest.”
Darcy groaned. “I do not need to be reminded. I am not anticipating it in the slightest.”
“She is a young woman grown, William,” reminded Elizabeth.
“I remember her as a babe in arms, Elizabeth. Allow me to express my disbelief that she has now reached the age where we must plan for her to come out into society.”
“Of course,” replied Elizabeth, caressing his face with affection. “But you must realize that it is necessary and do nothing to prevent her from enjoying it as much as she can.”
“You know I will do nothing. You and my aunt would never forgive me if I did. Aunt Susan is positively a slave driver.”
“You should have expected it,” replied Elizabeth. “According to your cousin, it was no different when his sisters came out. You should be thankful you have female relations who will manage it all, leaving you to your own devices.”
“I am. You may rest assured.” William paused, before speaking again slowly. “I must own that I am surprised at Kitty. Last summer when we came away from Brighton, I had not much hope that she would be ready for London society. She has grown a great deal. In fact, I believe the only reason Georgiana has agreed to come out in the spring is because of the surety that Kitty will be with her.”
Elizabeth stifled a laugh; in fact, her husband had no idea how true his speculation was. Kitty and Georgiana had become fast friends, and Georgiana had been known to say more than once that she did not know how she would ever bear society if Kitty was not to be by her side. Kitty had changed so much that she had voluntarily denied herself society, even when they were in Hertfordshire, where she had attended events for some time before their journey to Brighton.
“The two girls will be good for each other,” said Elizabeth aloud. “They will each provide the other support when required, and they will always have someone nearby should a gentleman become too persistent.”
“Your other sister also seems to have changed?”
Elizabeth recognized William’s statement for the question it was, and she shook her head with exasperation. “Papa is convinced that Lydia’s alteration is nothing more than skin deep, and after seeing her yesterday, I am certain he is correct. She watches all and sundry with a shifty look, as if she does not quite trust us, and when she thinks no one is looking she appears to be bothered by something which smells foul.
“I suppose we should be thankful that her overt displays of impropriety are a thing of the past, but she will never be convinced that her dear Wickham was not betrayed, and she blames me for that betrayal most of all.”
“If she behaves herself, then perhaps that is all we can wish for,” replied William. “It seems to me that there has been an alteration in most of the members of your family. Even Mary is more apt to take enjoyment in company than she was previously.”
Smiling, and noting his tentative reference to his previous opinion of her family, Elizabeth nodded. “They are still the same people in essentials. Papa prefers his books, Mama her gossip and her propensity to attempt to arrange matches for her unmarried daughters, and Mary with her bookish ways and her endeavor to gain accomplishments.”
“Mary’s playing has been helped by the master she has been seeing,” commented William.
“I do not mean to censure Mary, William,” replied Elizabeth. “Her improvement is real. But in essentials, she is still the same person. Even Jane, though she is more confident and determined is still the same person who attempts to see the good in others. The same, however, could also be said about certain members of your family.”
William chuckled and shook his head. “If you mean Anne, then I cannot disagree with you. Fitzwilliam tells me that she rules over the house with an iron fist, and the servants all know not to bother asking Lady Catherine for her opinion, as Anne will just overrule her.”
“Well, she is her mother’s daughter!” replied Elizabeth, joining him in laughter. “I never thought it would manifest itself in such a way, but I am happy that she has managed to throw off her mother’s rule and become her own person. At least she does not meddle in the lives of others and dictate their opinions to them. With Anne, you can have a conversation and actually maintain the hope that you will
actually be allowed to speak!”
They descended into laughter again. Yes, it truly was fortunate that Anne had not inherited some of the more difficult of her mother’s traits.
“She looks very well, indeed,” said William. “In fact, I would not have expected her to be so vivacious, given how fearful she was of being with child.”
Elizabeth nodded. As the three couples had all become engaged at the same time, and perhaps more importantly because Anne had no desire to marry in her home parish where her mother would control everything, they had all been married in the same ceremony at Longbourn church near the Bennets’ ancestral home. But even though she had always been the frailest, Anne was the quickest to fall with child, followed soon by Jane, and now Elizabeth, and she absolutely glowed with health and happiness. The Fitzwilliams would return to Rosings after a month with the Darcys at the lakes, and they would not leave again until after Anne’s confinement.
“I understand from Bingley that Miss Bingley now has a suitor,” said William, changing the subject slightly.
“Jane is hopeful that she will be induced to accept this one,” replied Elizabeth. “She spends much of her time with the Hursts, but enough with Jane for even my patient sister to become exasperated with her.”
“Hurst would also prefer to be rid of her. Now that he has a son to carry on his name, I think he would prefer to have Miss Bingley ensconced in her own establishment. Given what they have, at times, suffered with Miss Bingley, I cannot blame them.”
“Nor can I,” said Elizabeth.
They remained in companionable silence for several moments, each thinking of the past and the twists and turns their lives had taken to arrive at that point. Elizabeth was happy with the presence of her family—all but the Phillipses were in attendance—but she also knew she would appreciate the return to Pemberley when this visit was complete. There was something completely magical about the place that kept drawing her back.
Elizabeth had just begun to feel lethargic and sleepy when the voice of her husband once again brought her to wakefulness.
“I believe we have been ensconced in our rooms for quite long enough, Mrs. Darcy. Perhaps we should join the rest of the family. After all, we do have an announcement to make.”
“Oh, very well,” replied Elizabeth, though she made no movement. Her husband’s shoulder was far too comfortable.
“I hope I have made you happy, my dear,” said Darcy, though his voice was so quiet that she was forced to strain to hear him.
“Can you doubt it?” asked Elizabeth, pulling her head off his shoulder.
“I suppose not,” replied he. “But I made such a hash of our courtship that I continually wonder that you were able to forgive me for it.”
“My husband,” said Elizabeth with shining eyes. “I would ask you to think no more on the mishaps of the past, for as you well know, neither of us can be cleared of blame. You have made me happier than I had ever thought I would be. Never doubt it.”
“Then that is because you have such a great heart,” replied William, drawing her forward, and resting her head against his breast. I vow that I will strive to make each day happier than the last, that you will never have cause to regret accepting me.”
“As long as there is to be no more coincidence in our lives, I believe I can be very happy with that vow.”
The rumble of his laughter mingled with the tinkling sound of her own. Her happiness was complete. There could be no greater blessing.
The End
Please enjoy the following excerpt from the upcoming novel On Lonely Paths, book two of the Earth and Sky fantasy trilogy.
It was night in the sky realm. And what a night it was.
The sky was clear and the stars as visible as if there was nothing in between the firmament above and the earth below. The wind shifted and swirled about the settlements of the Skychildren, the area at once calm and peaceful, yet giving a hint of a world which, though not flush with youth, was alive and rich with life.
On the ground world below, the night was equally fine—warm, as dictated by the summer season yet calm and gentle, with no hint of the sometimes spectacular storms which plagued the area during the summer.
But the world below was of no concern to the two who lay upon the soft grasses of the sky realm. Here and there, hints of nearby foliage, though certainly not as lush and green as that found on the earth below, could be seen in the darkness. Heathers, brush, and even the occasional stunted trees covered the landscape, bringing life to what would otherwise be a blasted land.
The two people themselves were a study in contrast, and one which, not many months ago, would not have been seen anywhere in the world. The man was tall and slender, possessed of short locks of straight blond hair and cobalt-colored eyes. He was intelligent and kind, but quick to anger and lacking patience, something which his companion would often tease him about, though always with the utmost of affection.
By contrast, the woman was small in stature, though her determination and intelligence more than made up for her short height, and while she did not possess a particularly fiery personality, she was not one to be trifled with. As for her looks, they were the opposite of his, for she sported a mane of long, rich, chestnut hair and had a lovely face with amber-colored eyes.
The fact that their people were the bitterest and oldest of enemies had been all but forgotten by both of them, though their respective peoples were not as quick in embracing one another as the two lovers were. Still, with patience and persistence, they both believed that the change in the relations between their peoples would make their world a better place. This belief and their love for one another drove them to continue their course, no matter what obstacles arose before them. They were determined it would always be thus.
The woman shifted, gazing fondly at the man beside her for a moment before returning her eyes upward once more. She loved the look of peace and contentment upon her fiancé’s face; there had been a lot to try their patience lately—much of it involving their impending wedding—yet these stolen moments were theirs to enjoy together in relative solitude. Right now, there was no need to worry about consulting with advisers and family members or handling the variety of problems that had cropped up as they attempted to facilitate peaceful trade relations between their peoples. This time was theirs. It was a period when they could afford to be selfish, if only for a brief time.
“One of the things I love most about the sky realm is how I can see the stars so clearly,” Tierra said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
“A Groundbreather who also fancies herself a stargazer? I fear you may soon be disowned by your people for heresy,” Skye teased.
She elbowed him gently in the ribs. “I am not the only one demonstrating unusual qualities for one of a certain race. I seem to recall you admiring some of the flowers in the castle gardens down in the ground realm, which some of your people up here might view to be just as heretical.”
Skye snorted but did not comment; Tierra knew he was well aware of the fact that his opinions of the ground realm had undergone an almost miraculous transformation. Somehow, she had broken through his barriers without even realizing she was doing it. And she was so glad that she had, for his soul had become irrevocably bound to hers in a way that she had never imagined possible.
They were quiet again for a few moments before Tierra asked, “Do you remember my constellation?”
His light chuckle brought a smile to her face. “Of course,” he said, pointing. “That crass sword over there has your name written right on its hilt.”
“And yours is that primitive old bow over there,” Tierra responded in kind, nodding toward a small grouping of stars. “An absolutely useless weapon for a battle.”
“I’d say it wasn’t that useless when Cirrus used it to save your neck in our battle with the Fenik,” Skye countered.
“Mmhmm,” Tierra said. She was glad Skye could speak more lightly of the battle and her role in it now�
�he had admitted to having some nightmares about it after the fact which she suspected centered on losing her—but she was less than pleased that she owed something to Skye’s friend.
While the man was all smiles and joviality when it came to Skye, Cirrus’s expression always took on a disapproving cast when he focused on her. She had considered asking Skye to talk to his friend, but Skye seemed so glad Cirrus was alive that she did not want to cause his happiness to dim even a whit. So she held her tongue, hoping that Cirrus would eventually come to see that her motives were pure when it came to Skye. In marrying him, she was not seeking to be queen; she was seeking love and companionship. And she knew she would have it in ample measure.
“You know,” Skye said, twisting and propping his head up on an elbow while he lazily draped an arm across Tierra’s stomach, “I still can’t believe you disguised yourself as a soldier so you could participate in a fight with a giant beast.”
As he began to draw circles with his fingers on Tierra’s side, she had to fight against the urge to shy away from the ticklish sensation. “I had no idea that was what I was going to face.” “If you had known, would it have stopped you?”
“No.”
Skye laughed, his amusement clearly seeping through their mental bond. “That’s my little Groundbreather.”
Tierra raised an eyebrow. “Your little Groundbreather?”
“That’s right,” he said, wrapping his arm tightly around her. “Mine.”
“I ought to imprison you in a ground cage for that one and teach you just what your place is.”
“Probably. But then you wouldn’t have someone to take you stargazing.”
“I would just have to find another Skychild to serve as my personal form of transport. I imagine Mista would not protest.”
“You’re probably right. But I think her fear of insects and becoming dirty might hamper her willingness to partake in such outdoor activities as reclining on sky soil. And all that’s not even taking into account her insipid personality, which I think would be the more important factor when considering whether to use her as your transportation.”