* * *
When Jane and Bingley returned from their wedding trip, they were surprised to see Mr. Darcy at Netherfield. As Bingley’s particular friend, he was always welcome, of course. They were not home long before they became aware of his reason for being in the neighborhood.
Jane was in raptures for her sister and not at all surprised by the turn of events. She had been away since her wedding and was not even aware of her sister’s distress afterwards. Elizabeth and Darcy did not speak of it and allowed them to believe everything went as smoothly after their wedding as the groom and bride had assumed it would.
Jane happily accompanied Elizabeth on all her shopping and, to the relief of the engaged couple, often invited Elizabeth to take tea at Netherfield.
* * *
Anne sat in the large parlor with her mother when the post came and the footman handed her a letter from her cousin.
“Who is that from, Anne? I must know who sent you a letter,” her mother demanded.
Anne looked at the name on the letter and replied that it was from her cousin Fitzwilliam.
Lady Catherine beamed, highly gratified to see her nephew finally making steps towards his courtship with her daughter. “Well, what does he say, child? Open it, or better yet, give it to me, and I will read it. Your eyes are much too weak in this poor light.”
Anne pulled the letter to herself and surprised her mother when she refused to hand over the paper. Lady Catherine did not protest, happy to gloat over the fact that her nephew had written.
Anne puzzled over the letter as she opened it. Darcy was an inconstant writer with her; Georgiana was a more reliable correspondent. As she read through the missive, she began to smile. He was engaged to the amusing Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who had visited them at Easter. Anne and Darcy had long ago decided that they would not suit and would never marry. Only her mother wished for their union. Anne was happy for her cousin and determined to facilitate his request for help.
“Well, what does he write?” her mother demanded again.
Anne folded the missive and placed it in her pocket. “It is just a review of his life since he left in April, Mother.”
“That was kind of him. I told you, his attachment to Rosings increases.”
Anne excused herself from her mother to carry out her cousin’s tasks. She first spoke to the butler and requested that the London newspapers come to her first. The servants, who were endeared more to Miss de Bourgh than to their demanding mistress, complied readily. Next, Anne ordered her phaeton and ponies readied so she might go for a drive.
When she pulled up in front of the parsonage, Mr. Collins, pulling his wife along behind him, immediately exited his house and rushed to pay his respects to her. She expected this and thus began, “Mr. Collins, you ought not to keep your wife out in all this wind. Go now and retrieve her wrap.”
The unctuous parson bowed and apologized profusely, more to Anne than to his wife, and left the two ladies as he scurried back into the parsonage.
“Mrs. Collins, I wished to speak to you in private about a matter of some consequence.”
“Of course, Miss de Bourgh; speak freely.”
“I need your help, Mrs. Collins. If you have not heard already, you will soon that my cousin has recently become engaged to be married to your friend Miss Bennet.”
“Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Collins beamed.
Anne smiled, sharing her neighbor’s excitement. “Yes. My cousin requested that we keep the news of his wedding a secret from my mother as he fears she may try to stop the wedding or insult Miss Bennet in some way.”
Charlotte nodded and, as she could hear her husband returning behind her, said quickly, “I will make sure to intercept any letters from home and the newspapers as well, so that my husband does not hear of the happy news either.”
“That is precisely what I would wish for,” Anne said with a grin.
Mr. Collins arrived then and hastily gave his wife the wrap before turning his attentions again to Miss de Bourgh. Before he could extol his usual reverence, she forestalled him by speaking.
“Mr. Collins, you have a lovely wife, and I have enjoyed visiting with her, but I must be on my way now. Thank you and good-bye.” Anne hastily left the man to shout out his praise to her back as she pulled forward in the phaeton and began her return to Rosings Park.
“My dear Charlotte, she pays you a great honor to stop in such a manner.”
“Yes, Mr. Collins. Shall we return to the house?” Charlotte was already walking towards her home, leaving Mr. Collins behind to watch until Miss de Bourgh was out of sight. She was happy for her friend and eager to watch for any letters from her.
* * *
When the day of the wedding arrived, it seemed that everyone except the bride and groom was nervous. They had endured enough strain in the times before their engagement, leaving them entirely content on the day of the wedding.
Elizabeth laughed at each of her sisters as they fretted over her dress, kissed her mother on the cheek when she fussed over her hair, and smiled at her father when he paced in the church’s vestibule before the service.
As the church bell rang, signaling the hour was at hand, Mr. Bennet took his daughter’s arm. “Well, Lizzy, it looks as if it is time. Do not worry, my dear; all will be well.”
Elizabeth breathed deeply, feeling that sentiment ring true throughout her body. She thanked her father and ushered him to the church doors. With a gentle press at his arm, she looked forward as the doors opened into the sanctuary.
As her eyes traveled down the aisle to her beloved Fitzwilliam, her lips drew up into a delighted smile. She saw herself run to him, wrap her arms around him and laugh as he kissed her eyelids while he swung her around. As she reached the front of the church, still on the arm of her father, she smiled at her daydream. Nevertheless, she was there, now standing happily beside her love.
Her eyes misted as she looked up into his and took his arm. He felt an overwhelming satisfaction realizing that forevermore her place would be at his side.
Luckily for both the bride and groom, the words the vicar had them repeat kept them present for enough of the ceremony to know their parts and not to drift into their own happy world, oblivious to the rest of the witnesses. The moment they were introduced to the assembled guests as Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy was perhaps the happiest either had experienced.
Mr. Darcy turned to his new wife as they walked down the aisle. With pride coloring his voice, he said, “Have I told you how fine you look today, Mrs. Darcy?”
Elizabeth smiled brightly at her husband. “You have not, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy laughed gently as he placed his other hand to cover hers. “Then allow me to do so immediately. You, Elizabeth, are more beautiful to me today then you have ever been before.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am glad to hear it.”
* * *
Later, at the wedding breakfast, Mr. Bennet was proudly looking around at his friends and family as they conversed with each other. The bride looked luminous on her husband’s arm as they spoke with the Gardiners. His neighbors were each engaged with other members of his family. Mr. Bennet became overwhelmed as he considered how blessed he was. Looking about for his greatest blessing, he frowned when he could not find his wife.
Just as he was about to stand and look for her, Mrs. Hill approached him and handed him a note. Thanking the housekeeper, Mr. Bennet slipped out of the breakfast room, where the guests were assembled, and went to his study to read the note.
A few minutes later, a dazed Mr. Bennet made his way up the stairs slowly. His mind was reeling at the news he just read in the note. He was trying desperately to make sense of it and to control both the fear and happiness that were warring in his breast as a result.
Coming to his wife’s bedchamber door, he knocked and waited for her summons. As soon as he entered, closing the door firmly behind him, he asked, “Is it true?”
Fanny Bennet sat nervously at her dressing table, rin
ging her hands in her lap. She turned around to face him and replied with a feeble, “Yes.”
“How can it be? I mean, it is at the same time wonderful as it is . . . ” Mr. Bennet shook his head. “How can it be?” he repeated.
His wife blushed. “I believe you know how it could be, sir. The process has not changed since the last time.”
Mr. Bennet stood there for just a moment absorbing it all. Slowly his face broke into a wide smile as he went to his wife and took her into his arms. “Congratulations, my dear!”
Nervously, his wife looked up into his face. “Then you are not unhappy to hear it?”
“Unhappy? Of course not. Concerned for your health — terrified really — but unhappy? Not at all.”
Mrs. Bennet laughed uneasily. “It was quite a surprise for me; I assure you.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “I did not realize there was still a chance . . . ”
“I am not that old, sir!” she stated with offense.
Mr. Bennet smiled wider at his wife. “No you are not that old, Fan. You are more handsome today than the day of our own wedding, my dear.”
He laughed as his wife blushed. Still a little bewildered at the news, he whispered disbelievingly, “A baby.”
Her own eyes clouded over with disbelief. “A baby.”
* * *
Elizabeth looked anxiously for her parents. The newlyweds had taken their leave of the rest of the family after the wedding breakfast, and they were even then at the carriage ready to leave on their wedding trip. But she did not see her mother or father anywhere. Unhappily, she turned towards the carriage, preparing to enter it with resignation and disappointment at not being able to say goodbye.
As Darcy was handing her into the carriage, her father called out to her from the door of the house.
“Just a moment, my dear!”
He rushed to her, with her mother’s hand in his, coming along behind him.
Elizabeth stepped down and turned quickly to give her father a warm embrace.
“Where were you both?” she asked. “I was worried I would have to leave without saying goodbye.”
Mrs. Bennet answered, “That was my fault, my dear. I had a matter of importance to speak to your father about. Come here, child, and give your mother a hug.”
Elizabeth happily complied and held her mother tightly, filled with tenderness for the woman. “I will miss you, Mama.”
“Shh, Lizzy, you have a husband now. Think no more of us, but do come and visit often.”
“I will.”
She released her mother as her father shook her husband’s hand. Mr. Darcy gave her a smile as he extended his hand again to assist her into the carriage. This time she was ready. When they were both comfortably settled, she looked out the window and waved goodbye to her friends and family as the carriage began to roll away.
Turning in her seat, Elizabeth looked across to her husband. “Did you ever think that, when you brought me back from Rosings in this very carriage, you would take me away from here one day as your wife?”
“I had certainly hoped such would be the case.”
Elizabeth switched sides and pulled her husband’s arm around her as she snuggled into his side. Sighing, she said, “I admit, I had never considered the possibility at the time.”
“Well I, for one, am glad that you have come around to my way of thinking, Elizabeth.”
They laughed together for a moment until Darcy asked, “When did you first fall in love with me, Elizabeth? I can imagine you going on charmingly once you started, but —” Darcy laughed as he squirmed away from her jab in his side.
“I suppose I could say something highly romantic like, ‘I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.’ But I shall not deceive you. I believe I first knew I loved you after seeing the beautiful grounds of Pemberley,” she teased.
Darcy laughed and pulled her closer to him. “Then it was my fortune and home that you were after.”
Elizabeth reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. She smiled when he turned his face and kissed her palm. “It was in the field of bluebells, Fitzwilliam. That is where I first realized you loved me and that I loved you.”
“Then it was not my home after all,” he said with a smile.
“No, but you did promise me when you proposed that I could make my home your love.”
Darcy kissed each of her cheeks before placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Indeed, I did, my love. Welcome home.”
The End
Epilogue
Within seven months of their second daughter’s wedding, each month more stressful and agonizing than the next for both Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, the birth date for their surprise baby came. While Mr. Bennet paced his study, running his hands through his hair and praying for his wife, his two sons-in-law looked on helplessly. Neither had ever experienced having his wife in labor and certainly had never expected to be present when the situation visited their mother-in-law. Darcy offered his father-in-law a drink to help calm his nerves.
Mr. Bennet took it in his hands gratefully but, in his distraction, never drank it. Darcy looked towards Bingley who simply shrugged his shoulders.
Upstairs in her bedchamber, Fanny Bennet was surrounded by the midwife and all of her daughters as was their wont. Fanny had not been easy in her confinement. She had never imagined being with child again at two and forty years when her other children were grown — not to mention her fears of a repetition of Sammy’s birth. But here she was, supported by her daughters, crying the tears of a mother about to be renewed again.
Elizabeth had insisted on being there as soon as she received word from her parents that they were expecting a new sibling. She marveled at the thought, stunned beyond words at first when she learned of it. After a few minutes, she began to cry happy tears as she realized that this child was the blessed result of her parents’ reconciliation.
“It is time, ma’am,” the midwife said.
Elizabeth took one of her mother’s hands and Jane took the other. She smiled as she looked across her mother to her older sister, the first signs of life just beginning to swell in her belly. Jane noticed Elizabeth’s smile and smiled knowingly in return. Elizabeth was excited for her sister and Mr. Bingley. They would be excellent parents. Elizabeth placed her hand on her own flat belly in satisfaction.
Her mother’s moans brought Elizabeth back from her thoughts, and she turned to give her mother words of encouragement. Emotions were high, and the excitement of the moment filled everyone. After several more arduous minutes, Mrs. Bennet cried out loudly through her last push before delivering her seventh child.
The gentlemen all locked eyes with each other when they heard Mrs. Bennet’s voice cry out. Her husband grew white and sat himself slowly into a chair, terrified. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy stood quickly and went towards the door, determined to do something, though neither knew what. Opening the door, they both tried to exit together, their broad shoulders thwarting their departure.
Elizabeth ran down the stairs at that moment and came rushing towards the room, calling for her father. Running to her father’s side, she knelt beside him. “Papa! It is finished, and Mama and the babe are both healthy and fine.”
Mr. Bennet’s unfocused eyes rested upon his daughter as he processed her words. As color returned to his cheeks, he stood and walked to where he had placed his drink and swallowed it down.
He turned to the stunned faces of his sons-in-law and smiled triumphantly. “Well, boys, did you hear that? I am a father again!” He laughed and kissed his daughter on the cheek as he quickly exited the room and bounded up the stairs as if he were twenty years younger. Mr. Bingley followed, eager to see his wife, having been a little shaken by the experience he knew was to be his in a few short months. Mr. Darcy remained with Elizabeth and pulled her into his embrace.
“I cannot say I enjoyed that experience, my dear. I have never seen your father so shaken.”
Elizabeth snuggled into her husband’s chest, wrapping her arms
around his back. “I shall remember not to tell you when my time comes then, so you may remain unaffected.”
Darcy tightened his arms and rested his chin on her head. “No, you must tell me. I shall just have to prepare myself.”
Elizabeth smiled against his chest, feeling so much love for him in that moment. “And how much time do you think you will need to prepare, my dear husband?” she asked as she looked up at him.
Darcy puffed out his cheeks and shook his head, “A very long time, I think.”
“Well, then, you may wish to begin preparing now, Fitzwilliam.”
Darcy’s brows lowered as he looked down at his wife, trying to discern whether he heard her correctly. Upon seeing her smiling eyes, his own began to crinkle at the corners as his mouth drew up into a wide smile. “Really?” he asked incredulously.
Elizabeth nodded and then was crushed instantly against his chest as he lifted her up off the floor and swung her around in his excitement. Realizing her new condition warranted extra care, he immediately put her down and worriedly looked towards her abdomen. “Oh, I am sorry, Elizabeth. Did I . . . Are you all right?”
Elizabeth laughed and reached up to place a quick kiss on the concerned lips of her husband. “I am well, my dear.”
Meanwhile, upstairs Mr. Bennet hesitated only a moment before knocking on the bedroom door. When Kitty opened the door widely for him, all he could see was his lovely wife on the bed, flanked by Jane and Mary, and holding a tiny bundle in her arms. Slowly, he entered the room.
As he approached the bed, he roamed his eyes all over his wife, assuring his mind that, indeed, she was well. When his eyes met hers, she said, “Come here, my dear, and meet your new son.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes welled with water as he looked down at the tiny body in her arms. The thought crossed his mind that he had forgotten how small they started out as he slowly reached for the little hand. His voice broke as he said, “My son.”
* * *
Edward Samuel Bennet grew up in the warmth of his parents’ love, and he was doted on by every one of his older sisters, their husbands and his nieces and nephews — many of whom were very close to his age. The entail to the estate was broken, of course, with his birth. He was especially close to his older sister, Mary, who never married but instead went on to write several popular romantic novels. She lived with him and his eventual family the rest of her life.
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