The Darcys paid a call on Rosings as soon as Elizabeth was well enough to do so. They listened patiently to Lady Catherine’s declarations that if Anne’s child was a girl, she of course must be married to their Geoffrey, and if it was a boy, all the better, because he would have his pick of their three daughters (though she thought the eldest was a bit shifty-eyed and no good would come of her). They nodded politely, saying almost nothing, and left the room with some amusement and no intention of taking a word of her advice.
“Son, if Anne has a girl, would you like to marry her?” Darcy proposed to Geoffrey, who was sitting on the stairs.
“What?” Geoffrey said. “I thought I was marrying Georgie.”
“I hope not,” Darcy said. “Or I owe Bingley five pounds.”
“Darcy!” Elizabeth said, and swatted him.
***
Edmund Bingley turned two largely without his knowledge, though he certainly enjoyed the attention that was lavished on him by those around him. It was, in the end, as much a celebration for them as it was for him. No one needed to say it, but everyone knew it was a marker date, when the idea of Darcy and Dr. Maddox’s ill-fated departure became real. Their family was whole again (and seemed to have gained a few members), their prayers answered, and life as they knew it was returning to normal, even better than normal. It was the summer of 1813, and Wellington first successfully routed Napoleon’s troops.
“I hope nothing happens to that poor man,” Grégoire said at the news.
“Who? Wellington?”
“He means Bonaparte,” Caroline said to her husband.
“Don’t let the rest of the country hear you say that,” Charles suggested, lifting his glass to Grégoire.
“He was very polite,” Grégoire said, “and he quite possibly saved my life. I will say nothing against him.”
“You are too good for this world,” Darcy said. “Dangerously so. One of these days you will get in trouble for it, and this time… Elizabeth and Mrs. Maddox will not be there to save you.” He glared at Bingley, who was chuckling beside him. “Be quiet. You stayed at home and got a thrashing from your own employees. You are lucky you have an insane brother-in-law.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that in front of me?” Brian Maddox said. “I won’t begin to deny it, but normally it is not wise to insult a man thoroughly more armed than you are.” Brian relinquished his Japanese costume and swords only when it was absolutely necessary, and often had at least the small one hidden inside his waistcoat when he did.
“Because you are wearing a skirt,” Caroline said.
“Pleated trousers. A hakama is a set of pleated trousers.” He turned to his wife. “Nady, you tell them how manly I am. What? Why are you laughing? Don’t do this to me!” But he could not truly raise his voice at his wife, who hid her laughter with her hand, but not very successfully. “At least you could support me.”
“Mr. Maddox, if you expect your wife to always be your sternest supporter when your honor is insulted in any family event, you are not well educated in the English customs of marriage,” Darcy said. “I need not turn my head, and I already know Elizabeth is staring at me and deciding whether to laugh or to look enraged.” She was doing precisely that. “See?”
“You are a quite accomplished husband,” Elizabeth said. “Already you know that I am thoroughly plotting my revenge with a story you wouldn’t want told.”
“What about this noodles incident I keep hearing mentioned?” Dr. Maddox said.
Bingley looked down at his drink. “No, no, that was me. Well, involved me. And everyone present was sworn to secrecy. Right, my darling?” He looked so very sweetly at Jane, whom he had not insulted.
“You are an accomplished husband for not upsetting me during the course of this conversation.”
“I’ll help him along,” Brian said. “He told me last week he wants to go to India.”
“India!”
“Oh God.” Bingley slumped in his seat. “Joking! I was partially—mainly joking when I said that I might be interested in thinking about possibly considering—”
“INDIA!”
Elizabeth turned to her husband, whose well-practiced mask of indifference was set on his face. “Mrs. Darcy, I can soundly promise you I will never venture to India, Africa, or quite possibly beyond the British shore, and if by chance someone is foolish enough to visit a country filled with snakes, vermin, pagans, and disease, I will leave him to stew in his own mistakes.”
“Darcy!”
“Bingley,” Darcy said, moving away from the fireplace and towards Bingley. “We have been friends since the moment we met. I have stood by your side when you made a fool of yourself and you have forced me into the social sphere in which I met my wife. However, when one must choose between a friend and a wife, one must strategically choose the wife.”
Bingley sighed but gave his friend a smile in agreement.
That was when Elizabeth piped up. “Good sir, what do you mean by strategically?”
***
While the adults enjoyed themselves and the younger children slept, the older children played on Chatton’s lawn. Eliza stood on the stump and was the captive princess, and Geoffrey was her jailor, as her brother was the knight to rescue her, which involved a lot more chasing than actual fighting.
“I give you this,” Mugin said, off to the side with Georgie Bingley. In his hands was a book, little more than sheets of paper bound with two hard pieces and loops of string poked through to tie it together. She opened it to find crude drawings of a human figure—distinct only in the position of the limbs, which changed on every page with instructions in Japanese and Nadezhda’s best English handwriting under it. She recognized all of the moves in the form he had taught her. “When you understand it, come find me.”
“But you are going to Japan!” she cried, holding the book close to her chest.
“So? If you asked me five, six years ago if I would be in England, do you know what I would have said?”
“No. What?”
“‘What is England?’”
The joke brought a smile to her face as she hugged him, but she did not relinquish her tight grip on the book.
***
The fall, as had the previous one, required two good-byes, but these were longer and more definitive. Mugin left with the only ship that would for certain take him to Shanghai, and from there, he could easily get to Japan. Brian gave him money for the trip. “Try not to gamble it all in one place. Spread it out over several places.”
Brian, Nadezhda, Bingley, and Georgie were there to see him go. Wearing his upside-down basket hat, he climbed up the ramp, his shoes making their “clack-clack” noise the whole way up. They waved good-bye until the ship was out of sight, and long after he could possibly still see them.
To everyone’s relief, Anne delivered safely in October. Though severely weakened, she would recover, and was strong enough to hold her minute-old son in her arms and hear his first wail.
Mr. Collins had the honor of christening Viscount Henry Lewis Fitzwilliam. After the meal, Anne was requested in her mother’s room, and she had the nurse bring along Lady Catherine’s grandson.
“I always wanted a son,” Lady Catherine said as she held the squirming infant in her arms. “I prayed so fervently. I had two, but both died within days. And then you came along, and I was so happy that at least I could produce something in this world of worth.” She looked up at her daughter. “I may have smothered you with doctors, but I did it for you.”
Lord Matlock entered the room, and Lady Catherine acknowledged him with a nod but continued on to her daughter. “I wanted a family for myself. But you were sick, and Lewis died, and I saw that it would not be possible. So I wanted a family for you. I did everything in my power to arrange for this family, and it only brought misery to everyone.”
“Mama—”<
br />
“It is in the past. It is all in the past.” Lady Catherine smiled as she looked down at her grandson.
***
The hectic years of the end of Napoleon’s reign on the Continent were not mirrored in Derbyshire, where life passed as normal. There was less tenant and worker rebellion in that particular county than most others, at least in Darcy’s half because of his masterful overseeing of his lands. Bingley purchased some land, but had no real interest beyond his family’s needs, not with his business thriving.
To everyone’s great relief, Caroline Maddox carried to term, and Daniel Maddox Jr. was born. He had his mother’s red hair, with the curling tendency of his father’s, so they concluded that he was a hopeless case in that respect.
As abruptly as the horde of children had come into the world, the spell seemed to end. Kitty Townsend (née Bennet) had three children in four years, but otherwise, there were some failures and periods where there was no conception. Jane and Elizabeth did not complain; they were tired, both having had four children (which they now had also to raise). They were content. Charlotte Collins had another child—another girl, though Mr. Collins expressed no consternation (at least not openly or to his wife, whom he was always very kind to). There were whispers about the Bennet curse resurfacing, which Mr. Bennet laughed at much as he laughed at everything else, and remained living, and therefore master of Longbourn, with his wife, daughter, and grandson at his side.
Brian and Nadezhda lived in peace. Count Olaf sent them their crowns and chains, having wrangled them from Count Vladimir, so Brian could finally wear his princely regalia in front of his brother, which amused the doctor to no end. Besides working on his business, Brian sat down to turn his letters to his brother into a travelogue, which sold fabulously well, and he became the talk of the town as a famous author, but he stayed largely out of the limelight because Nadezhda did not want to be ogled, and her needs came first.
When the war ended, Grégoire left for Spain, now safely sovereign again. There was an old monastery in the northwest that seemed perfect for him. It was Benedictine and near the coast, so he could travel to England in a few weeks by ship, a trip he relished only for its brevity. He returned the following summer, content in his community there but happy to visit his family and the saint, now buried in an obscure grave in the corner of a private cemetery in England. At the end of his allotted time for the visit, Grégoire kissed his nephew and all of his nieces, hugged Elizabeth, shook Darcy’s hand, and began down the path that would lead him south to London.
Later that day, as he always did when he missed his brother, Darcy slipped away from the others and went into the cemetery, to that small tombstone, and sat down beside it.
“So,” he asked the saint, “what now?”
The End
Historical Inaccuracies
Princess Nadezhda Maddox (who could not have had that title for real, as there was no princess of Transylvania, and she was the daughter of a count who did not marry a prince) speaks Romanian in the book. Though Romanian is a language, Romania as the country we know today did not come to exist until after World War I, though there were several independence movements in the mid-to-late 1800s. As Transylvania was part of the Austria-Hungarian empire, and Nadezhda and Count Vladimir are descendents of boyars (nobility), they would probably consider themselves Hungarian based on their geography, which is why she is referred to as Hungarian, even though today she would be Romanian. The nobility of Transylvania probably didn’t speak Romanian, the language of the peasants, and spoke whatever language was most popular in court. Covering one’s head with a scarf is a Romanian custom, though she carries it to an extreme in the book.
It would have been safer for Brian and Nadezhda to simply take a boat (which they tried) instead of walking through Tokugawa, Japan—although it would have been a less interesting story.
There were no wolves in England in the 1800s. They were driven to extinction centuries before, which is why I had to introduce the plotline about the crazy nobleman who reintroduced wolves to Derbyshire by accident to get the wolves to remain in the story in revision, as I didn’t discover the extinction business until well after the story was written.
Napoleon was heavily involved in the Russian campaign around the time that Grégoire meets him in Austria. It is unlikely he would have been in that precise part of Austria at that time. He had mixed feelings about the church, alternately respecting it and degrading it during his career.
Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (zt”l) (1745–1812), otherwise known as the Alter Rebbe and the founder of Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidism, moved to Liadi after being released from a Russian prison in 1798. He left Liadi before his death in 1812, though the dates are not precise. He probably was in Liadi around 1810, when Brian and Nadezhda meet him. He probably never wrote a letter about the birth of Nacham Flanzblau (born 1810), but I threw Nacham in because he was my great-great-great-great-grandfather.
Sebaldus of Nuremberg, the patron saint of Bavaria, has conflicting stories of his ancestry, and was possibly a German, a Frank, or a Saxon from England, and either lived in the eighth or the twelfth century, depending on your sources. What is known is that his body was not stolen away for safekeeping in 1812 and still remains in Nuremburg, in his tomb at the St. Sebaldus Church.
You cannot fight wearing wooden geta shoes. They will break. I’ve tried.
Acknowledgments
All praise belongs to the Holy One, blessed be He, who in His infinite mercy will now understand when I contradict myself and go on to praise other people.
Brandy Scott, who has continued to edit all of my work long after it stopped being a sensible use of her time as a human being, really went beyond the call with this book, the longest and perhaps most convoluted of the books. Also the editing period fell during the Christmas season, so, she gets extra praise for this one.
Deb Werksman purchased this book for Sourcebooks without knowing how crazy it was, and for that I thank her and hope she will continue this lovely trend. Susie Benton worked out the kinks in the editing process, which is difficult for all twenty people who seem to be involved in putting a book together. At the time of my writing these acknowledgments, I am sure that Danielle Jackson will continue to do an incredible job at publicity. Sarah Ryan did, as always, an excellent job on copyediting.
Katie Menick, my agent, continues to represent me for some reason. I can only thank her by hoping she actually sees some profit from her hours and hours of hard work.
To all of my readers at Fanfiction.net and other fan fiction websites, thank you for continuing to read the series and for giving advice, catching mistakes, and providing translations. You guys are the reason this series happened.
The following people are responsible for translating dialogue:
Elena Luiña—Japanese
Lory L—Romanian
Lise, colinette—French
Franziska Herberger, fanficaddict, bette, Angelika—German
I would like to thank Amazon.com for its industry-crippling used book market, as I could never afford all of the history books I need to work on this series if I actually had to pay anywhere near full price for them.
My boss, Diana Finch, provided contract and promotion advice when I needed it. And this was while I was on the clock.
To my grandmother, for supporting me all these years, and no doubt making her friends buy and make some attempt to read my books.
To my brother Jason, thanks for talking me up to your friends, which I heard you actually did.
To my roommate, Shir Lerman, thanks for being my roommate. (Roommates get a freebie acknowledgment.)
Alison Hale, my old college roommate, tried to teach me how to accurately pronounce the name “Nadezhda.” She really did put her back into it, but my tongue is too many generations away from my Eastern European ancestry to pull it off.
To all the members of
Congregation Agudath Israel, thank you for buying my first book, even though there was no Jewish content in it except the word “Jew.” This is the one with the Jewish content in it. A whole few pages’ worth. Enjoy.
Rabbi Mendel and Chani Laufer have put me up in their home in Providence on almost no notice, and all I’ve ever given them is a copy of the first book and some baby toys. As the Laufers are Lubavitch Hasidim, a branch of Hasidim founded by the Alter Rebbe, he appears in this book partially as a tribute to them and the many Lubavitchers who have supported and counseled me over the years. Others include Rabbi Zalman and Toba Grossbaum, and Rabbi Baruch and Devorah Klar. Also, the Alter Rebbe was alive in 1810, so that really helped.
Thank you to Jamie and Ruth Nachinson, my long-lost relatives in Israel, who found me on the Internet and contacted me in time to learn the identity of my great-great-great-great-grandfather Nacham Franzblau, who now has a mention in the book. Thank you, Uncle Arthur and Aunt Donna, for helping out with the family tree.
And to everyone I forgot to thank, as usual, I apologize.
About the Author
Marsha Altman is an author and historian specializing in Rabbinic literature in late antiquity. She has a bachelor’s degree in history from Brown University and an M.F.A. in creative writing from the City College of New York. She works in the publishing industry and is writing a series continuing the story of the Darcys and the Bingleys. She lives in New York.
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