“Odd, I am looking forward to seeing his face myself,” Lady Seaton said, snapping her fingers. One of the hounds padded to her side.
Richard chuckled. “I am sure. Have you thought of training a few extra dogs for the occasion? A little additional protection might not go amiss.” He bowed again to Mary. “I beg your pardon, Miss Seaton. Pray forgive my unseemly mirth.”
“You are forgiven, Colonel,” Mary said in a quiet voice.
Lady Seaton said, “Chin up, girl. How many times must I tell you? Look them in the eyes. And do not fret, Mary, this particular Fitzwilliam whelp does not bite, unlike his sire.”
The girl obediently, if timidly, raised china-blue eyes to him, and he smiled encouragingly. “Indeed, I am quite a tame hound. But how shall we categorize our new acquaintance? Perhaps since you are now my cousin’s cousin, you could call me Cousin Richard.”
Miss Seaton looked rather as if she thought it would be a hanging offense to do anything of the sort, but she said, “As you wish.”
Lady Seaton said, “Just a warning, colonel. Mary does bite.”
Miss Seaton turned pale and looked away at Lady Seaton’s word.
Richard took pity on the girl and said gently, “So I have heard, but I believe it is only in the very best of causes.”
It was at this point that Darcy came upon them. “Welcome to Pemberley, cousin. What brings you out today? The fine weather, perhaps?” he said.
Richard looked down ruefully at his soaked boots. “I am here for congratulations.”
“Bingley will be glad of it. He should be down soon, though he may need to re-tie his cravat a dozen times first,” Darcy said dryly.
“Bingley is here?” Richard asked. “I had not realized.”
“But you said you wanted to congratulate him. Or perhaps you meant to offer your belated congratulations to Mrs. Darcy and me.”
“No, although I am happy to offer those as well. I was asking for your congratulations.”
“For what?” Half of Darcy’s attention was on the hallway, where he hoped Elizabeth would soon appear.
“I am engaged to be married.”
It was the last thing Darcy had expected, and it finally drew his full attention to his cousin. “You are engaged? Who is the lady unfortunate enough to have fallen for your charms?”
Richard’s grin broadened. “Lady Mary Howard. It will be in the papers next week.”
“Lady Mary?” Darcy’s voice rose in disbelief. “I know she is fond of you, and I do not doubt your sterling qualities, but how will you win her father’s consent? He would have considered me marginally suitable for his daughter, and you are a second son.”
Richard’s face grew sober. “Then you have not heard?”
For a shocked moment, Darcy thought that Henry’s illness must have ended his life, but then he realized Richard would be in black if that were the case, and certainly not sounding so cheerful. “Heard what? We receive little news here.”
“My father has changed his will. My future is brighter than I ever dreamed, although I am sorry to say it is at my brother’s expense.”
“He disinherited Henry?” Darcy heard a gasp from Mary’s direction. “I knew he was angry, but I never thought he would go so far.”
Richard shrugged. “It could not be helped, or, as Henry put it, it was God’s will. His mind is rather addled, in my opinion. He has not been the same since his illness.”
“Still, worse men have remained as their father’s heir.”
“Yes, but they did not tell my father that they were determined to go into the church. Henry has declared his intention of taking orders.”
“Henry? A clergyman? Wickham would be better suited to the role!”
“I could hardly believe it myself, but he would not be moved from it, even when Father threatened to disinherit him. Henry said the riches of the world mattered nothing to him. He seems to have taken over your role as the family Puritan with a vengeance. We are all sinners, by Henry’s new standards.”
“He must indeed be addled. Either that or possessed,” Darcy said, half to himself.
“And, to make matters worse, in love, but I imagine you are well aware of that.”
Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, a vision of loveliness in one of the new dresses he had ordered for her, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. She seemed to bring sunlight with her, even when there was nothing but snow and grey skies outside. The soft look she gave him made him wish he could take her in his arms. He had to tear his attention away from her. “Elizabeth, do you recall my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“Of course. We met at Rosings Park. You are welcome to Pemberley, colonel.” She held out her hand to Richard, who bowed over it.
“You are most gracious. I hope that you will call me Richard, especially since I have sold my commission.”
“Indeed?” Elizabeth said. “I hope that means we will have the pleasure of your company more often in the future.”
Darcy struggled not to feel annoyed that his wife’s attention was turned to any man but him. After all, he had not seen her for hours! “So, who is the lady who has captivated Henry’s black heart?” he said gruffly.
Richard shifted from one foot to the other, glancing sideways at Elizabeth. “I thought you would have heard.”
“I would not have asked if I had known,” Darcy said.
“It is Mrs. Darcy’s sister, Katherine.”
“Kitty?” Elizabeth said in astonishment.
“Never!” Darcy said firmly. “I will not permit it.”
Richard chuckled. “Best of luck to you, my friend! Henry is posturing like a distraught Romeo deprived of his Juliet. He speaks only of Miss Bennet’s innocence, purity, and nobility of character. He claims she is an angel sent by God to rescue him during the darkest night of his soul. Apparently she nursed him during his convalescence at your mother-in-law’s house in Hertfordshire. He swears he will not be parted from her. That was the final straw for Father. He ordered Henry out of his sight and called for his solicitor.”
“So Henry is cast out completely?”
“Father would have liked that, but the title and the original Derby estate—that old ruin in the North—are crown grants, so they must go to the eldest son. Everything else goes to me. All the land the family has acquired in the last three hundred years, the new estate, and more importantly—to Lady Mary’s father, that is—everything in the Derby coffers. I do not delight in my brother’s misfortune, but I cannot but rejoice that now I can marry the woman I despaired of.”
“It seems you have much to celebrate,” Elizabeth said warmly. “It is a day of celebration here already. May I hope you will remain through the festivities?”
Richard bowed. “It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Darcy, although I do not know what festivities you refer to.”
Elizabeth glanced at Darcy. “Why, the wedding. My eldest sister is to marry today. We will be leaving for the church as soon as the weather permits.”
Bingley swooped into the room, fiddling with his cuffs. “There you are, Darcy. Do you think it is time? I do not wish to keep anyone waiting. Oh, pardon me, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I did not see you.”
Elizabeth hid a smile at the idea that anyone could be more impatient for the event than Mr. Bingley. The colonel gave her an enquiring look, and she said, “Mr. Bingley will soon be my brother.”
“This is indeed a day of surprises!” Richard shook Bingley’s hand heartily and offered his congratulations.
A half hour later, the snow had stopped enough to make the short journey to the church feasible. Darcy took a fur-lined cloak from the footman and wrapped it tenderly around Elizabeth’s shoulder, pausing to appreciate her scent of lavender. He followed her through the open door to the sleigh with its battered red trim. He had given orders for the new sleigh to be used for the bride and groom.
A few lazy flakes of snow drifted down onto Elizabeth’s hood. He knew from her mischievous glance that if she had been alone with
him, she would have tried to catch a snowflake on her tongue. Elizabeth seemed endlessly delighted by the deep snows of Derbyshire.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were already ensconced in the sleigh’s facing seat. Darcy silently thanked his sister for taking the unaccustomed seat so that he could be beside Elizabeth. He handed his wife in, settled himself on the cushion beside her, and spread a thick blanket across their laps. The hot bricks at his feet added welcome warmth, but not as much as the knowledge that Elizabeth was by his side.
The driver clucked to the horses and snapped his whip. One of the greys tossed his head, his harness jingling, but set off obediently beside his mate, first at a walk and then a trot as they cleared the vicinity of the house. Snow puffed up around the rapidly moving hooves.
“It seems a small party for a wedding,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “Is this one of Bingley’s sudden whims?”
Darcy shook his head. “It is a very private affair, because Jane has been a widow but four months, and Bingley did not wish to wait a full year to wed. Under the circumstances, it seemed best to proceed quietly.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam whistled. “Four months? That is quick, even for Bingley!”
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. “Their attachment is long-standing. It is only the wedding that is quick.”
Elizabeth said with a smile, “Quick, small weddings seem to be quite the fashion in my family of late.”
“So I hear. I was sorry to miss your wedding, though I gather my family was over-represented as it was. Someday I hope you will tell me the entire story. I have heard only bits and pieces, and I imagine some of the highlights were left out of the telling.”
Darcy laughed. “That may be for the best. It was a most unusual wedding. Unforgettable, one might say.”
“One would hope our wedding would be unforgettable even if nothing untoward had occurred,” Elizabeth said tartly. “But it is true, today’s ceremony risks seeming dull by comparison, but then again, Jane has always been more proper and sedate than I.”
Darcy leaned close to her and whispered in her ear, “You are perfection itself, my love.” Once again he found himself caught by her fine eyes, and he had no desire to look away.
Colonel Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. “Speaking of proper and sedate, I had not realized your aunt had taken a new member into her family. Dare I ask how that came to pass? Was it your idea?”
Darcy shook his head. “Hardly. Aunt Augusta took Georgiana to Bath after our wedding, with Mary along as a servant. They arrived here a fortnight ago with Mary transformed into a proper young lady and her adopted daughter. No doubt she imagined it would annoy your father more than anything else in her power. We have given out here that Mary is a distant connection on the Fitzwilliam side.”
“I am glad to call her my cousin,” Georgiana declared with a hint of defiance.
“I do not object. It seems to make our aunt happy, and that is the most important thing,” Darcy said. “In any case, we will see more of Mary, as Aunt Augusta has announced her intention to visit us often. She says she needs to make certain that Georgiana and I do not revert to our old humourless ways, but I believe it is more that she does not wish to miss any opportunity to remind me that my wife is too good for me. Not, of course, that I have any doubt of this myself.”
“Darcy, if I had any doubts that this was a love match, you have long since put them to rest.”
The sleigh pulled up in front of the church. The path to the door had been cleared of snow, but the flagstones were already covered by a light dusting of new flakes.
Inside, the curate was waiting at the altar, white-haired and bent with age. He had held that role since Darcy could remember. All those years he had sat with his parents in the family pew, trying to subdue the restlessness natural to a young child, always trying to behave as a Darcy should.
How different it was now! His parents would have disapproved of all aspects of this assembly. Aunt Augusta, who had been married in this same church, had not been welcome at Pemberley during his mother’s lifetime. He could imagine his father’s fury if he had known that the earl’s illegitimate daughter was also sitting in the family pew. They would never have permitted Darcy to marry Elizabeth; they would have disapproved even of his friendship with Bingley, because of his family in trade. Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam were the only people present who would have been acceptable to his parents’ pride.
Elizabeth squeezed his hand, reminding him of his duty. As the only adult male connected to the Bennets, he was to give Jane to Bingley. Could he have ever foreseen such an occurrence when he first advised Bingley to avoid Jane? Now he was instrumental in bringing his friend happiness. It was true cause for pride. He kissed Elizabeth on the cheek—one bit of joy!—and went to take his place.
Epilogue
After their wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Bingley relocated to an estate in a neighbouring county, and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other. Although Mr. Bingley treated young Edward Browning in the very same manner as the children Jane eventually bore him, Darcy remained an active presence in the life of his godson and, as promised, made certain the boy had a gentleman’s education, and eventually set him up in a legal practise in London. It was a surprise to no one when several years later, the industrious and well-connected young man became a respected judge.
Charlie remained in London, where he proved an invaluable apprentice to Mr. Gardiner. He continued to hunger for knowledge from any source, and Miss Margaret Gardiner was delighted to find someone willing to listen for hours to her discourses on history. Soon he was reading history books himself, in order to present his own arguments to her. After several years of hard work and saving his wages, Charlie presented Mr. Gardiner with a difficult choice: to agree to marry his eldest daughter to a young man of no pedigree whatsoever or to lose an employee who had increased the profits of his business substantially and was well on his way to partnership. Mr. Gardiner agreed and then sent the new couple to Manchester, where Charlie would act as his buying agent at the mills, and the couple took advantage of the proximity to Pemberley to become frequent visitors. Thus it came to pass that when Mr. Charles Hopper finally travelled to Pemberley, it was as a member of the family, with his new bride on his arm. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy scarcely recognized the stylishly dressed young man as the urchin they had known in years past, but sometimes when no one was looking, Charlie flashed a knowing grin at the master and mistress of Pemberley.
Some years later, the living at Kympton came open. Darcy, knowing that Elizabeth would enjoy having her younger sister nearby, offered it to his cousin Henry, who had indeed taken orders, hoping that Henry’s religious meanderings would not prove too tiresome. Lord Derby unexpectedly took the gesture as an olive branch, since it put his reprobate son far from any contact with fashionable society, and he resumed contact with Darcy as if there had never been any disagreement. With much gentle persuasion from Elizabeth, Darcy agreed to resume occasional contact with his uncle, though the gentleman remained as overbearing and difficult as ever. Darcy’s chief concern was to avoid the possibility of any overlap between the earl’s visits to Pemberley and those of Lady Seaton, who took a continuing proprietary interest in her nephew’s family. The parishioners of Kympton did not immediately accommodate Henry’s hellfire and brimstone preaching, but still enjoyed the notoriety of having an impoverished aristocrat as their minister. In later years they were known to note that life had become much simpler for fathers of attractive young girls, since all the young men of Kympton were firmly convinced that carnal knowledge of a woman without benefit of marriage would lead directly to loss of their limbs.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy made an annual trip to Meryton each Easter to visit Mrs. Bennet, who, to Elizabeth’s relief, preferred to remain in Hertfordshire, where she could with delighted pride talk to all her acquaintance about Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Bingley, and the future Countess of Derby. Afterwards, the Darcys would conti
nue to London to allow Mr. Darcy to inspect the Foundlings Home he had established in a poverty-stricken part of London, which on occasion he fondly referred to as “The Mews.” The scandal of their marriage died down over time, but the Darcys rarely took part in London society, leading some to name them unfashionable and others as infernally proud. The couple and later their children, however, preferred the society of the Gardiners to the excitement of Almack’s and White’s and instead enjoyed annual tours of Moorsfield and Hyde Park, which excited gratitude in their hearts for the good fortune that had brought them together to celebrate a love and understanding that only increased with the years.
Acknowledgments
This book would never have been completed without the help and support of many people. My thanks to the readers who encouraged me by asking for one more Pride and Prejudice Variation, and to those who read it as a work in progress. They can claim responsibility for certain twists of the plot, though I must apologize that I couldn’t figure out a way to bring bloodthirsty sharks into the same vicinity as the Earl of Derby and his eldest son. Inspiration credit goes to my medical friends who asked so nicely for just a little medical scene and then laughed when I wrote one that incorporated treatments still in use today (yes, even the maggots).
I must also thank my extraordinary editor, Deb Werksman, for her belief in my work, as well as my agent, Lauren Abramo, for her patience in explaining the workings of the book world to a very ignorant pupil. Danielle Jackson of Sourcebooks walked me through the publicity minefields.
My colleagues at work deserve credit for coping with the shock that not only did I write books, but ones with love scenes (and yes, I promise to write only emotionally and physically healthy love scenes!). Bonnie Conway gets the Sherlock Holmes award for figuring out about my secret writing life, and Nancy Bullian and Judy (“And they’re really HOT sex scenes, too!”) Johnson kept my “other” work life running smoothly while providing support and encouragement.
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