by J P Christy
Fitzwilliam felt humbled. “You are welcome to stay at Hunsford. Or if you prefer, I will arrange a comfortable home for you in the nearby town.”
“Thank you. For now, I prefer to return to De Bourgh House with Anne and Nora and my beautiful baby boy.”
≈≈≈
November 20, 1811
Sir Christopher Richard Fitzwilliam and Lady Penelope Trelawney Velez y Garcia had a small, elegant wedding in London. Renata stood up with her mother and was allowed all the privileges of an adult that day. The guest list was limited to those persons whose company the newlyweds most enjoyed, as they insisted this celebration was for themselves, not the ton.
The morning after the wedding, Lady Penelope used her husband’s shoulder as a pillow in the bed they shared at Fitzwilliam House. “Are you eager to return to Rosings?” she asked.
“I am. It surprises me how quickly the place has come to feel like home. All due to you and my mother renovating that dreary pile into a comfortable retreat. Are you eager to return, my love?”
“I am.” After a hesitation, she said, “Although I am not certain, it is possible I am with child.”
Fitzwilliam gave her a teasing look. “After only one night?”
“Have you forgotten an October night at Rosings?”
Pulling her close, he murmured, “I will never forget that.”
“Did I mention that twins run in my family?”
45
Epilogue
Not quite eight months later, Penelope Trelawney Velez y Garcia Fitzwilliam gave birth to healthy twins: a girl, Jemima, and a boy, Edward. Renata, having had much experience with her cousins, was a model older sister.
Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield for only a year before purchasing an estate in a county neighboring Derbyshire, some thirty miles from Pemberley. Before Bingley and Jane moved to their new estate, they presented Mr. and Mrs. Bennet with the curricle, and the Bennets became quite fond of roaming the countryside in it.
While the Hursts were rare visitors to the Bingleys’ estate, Caroline’s requests to visit were uniformly refused. She was nearly twenty-seven when she accepted the proposal of a widower in Scarborough; he was a tradesman who, like Sir William Lucas, had been knighted for some minor service to the crown. Their shared proclivity for pretentiousness was such that as soon as their only child—a son—was old enough, he ran away and joined the navy.
Olivia Collins, widow of Donald, wore mourning for a year, as was the custom before marrying the landlord of her late husband’s print shop, a man whom several neighbors had thought looked very much like Olivia’s daughters.
Georgiana chose to postpone her coming out until she was eighteen and, at her request, Lady Fitzwilliam agreed to sponsor both her and Kitty Bennet. Georgiana married an earl after her third season. Although her husband was only four years her senior, he was almost as serious and sensible as her brother; however, the earl’s hobby was composing music, and this shared interest was instilled in their three girls and two boys.
Kitty, after her second season, married a successful young businessman whom she met through the Gardiners. He was fascinated by new inventions, so he had a great appreciation for his wife’s ability to sketch what he envisioned. In time, Kitty began sketching her own ideas, in addition to the portraits she made of their two daughters and two sons.
Lydia spent a season in London hosted (reluctantly) by the Gardiners. Happily for everyone, she chose to cut her season short and return to Longbourn; she preferred being a big fish (or so she considered herself) in a small pond. Besides, Hertfordshire had fewer restrictions regarding her behavior.
Anne and Nora led comparatively quiet lives when they were in town. Their select social circle tended to be artists, writers, philosophers, and the occasional radical intellectual. They also traveled for several months each year. In addition to making annual visits to Rosings, Brighton, and Bath, they journeyed throughout Scotland and Ireland and even visited such faraway lands as Italy, Poland, and Denmark.
Instead of returning to Rosings, a grateful Charlotte Collins resided comfortably at De Bourgh House for several years. For most of that time, she occupied the guest cottage behind the main house, which allowed her to feel as though she had her own home. Both Anne and Nora were named godmothers to Charlotte’s son, and if anyone thought it odd that the boy had two godmothers but no godfather, no one was so rude as to say so.
Young Edmund William Christopher Collins and his mother inherited Longbourn shortly before the boy’s fifth birthday, as that was when Mr. and Mrs. Bennet died together in an accident. Despite several warnings from their manservant Johnny about a crack in one wheel of the curricle, Mr. Bennet was slow to attend to the problem. In fact, it was while Johnny was in Luton, at his own initiative, arranging for a wheelwright to craft a replacement, that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet assured each other there was no harm in taking a brief ride. Thus, when the wheel broke as the curricle, traveling faster than it ought, crossed the bridge over the river at the edge of Meryton, the Bennets were pitched into the water.
Both were quite dead when the townspeople reached them, having been alerted to the accident by the sight of a panicked horse dragging a curricle with one shattered wheel.
Neither the Bingleys nor the Darcys were eager to provide a home indefinitely to Lydia. Although she had matured beyond what anyone had expected, she was still Lydia. So, when the topic inevitably arose over a dinner in London with the Bingleys, the Darcys, Anne, Nora, and Charlotte, the latter said she preferred the opportunities and culture offered by city life. She said she would happily lease Longbourn back to Lydia until her son was of age if the proceeds would allow her to have a home in Bristol.
Lydia was told that so long as she kept Longbourn in good order and avoided making a disgrace of herself, she could stay until the Collins boy reached his majority. She happily agreed and then proposed marriage to Johnny on the conditions that he manage Longbourn and take her dancing at every Meryton assembly. Theirs was a happy union that produced no offspring.
Charlotte found a suitable home to let in Bristol, and when Anne and Nora made their annual trips to Bath, they visited her, too. Although Charlotte did not remarry, she became close friends with her neighbor, a retired sea captain nearly twenty years’ her senior. It was he who introduced her to a young sister and brother, orphans of the African slave trade, and she gladly took them into her home. Young Edmund, now eleven, was very pleased to have siblings, and because he took after the Collinses in terms of his size, he was sufficiently formidable to discourage any who might make rude comments about his adopted family members.
To Lady Catherine’s enduring disappointment, Anne never requested to stay at Kesteven Place; indeed, the estrangement between mother and daughter was permanent. When her ladyship suffered an attack of apoplexy and died some six years after moving to Bath, Anne and Nora were offered the use of Kesteven Place again. However, the ladies preferred to keep the pied-à-terre that Fitzwilliam had purchased for them, using money from the sale of a property in Scotland he had received as a wedding gift.
Mary and Allen Ainsworth, parents of three daughters and three sons, were very happy with the living in Kympton. Every other year, they traveled to Longbourn, where they stayed with Lydia and visited the Laidlaws.
Michaels did not remain a groom for long. With the help of those whom Anne considered her extended family, she arranged for him to receive training from Samuels (of Fitzwilliam House), Ashton (of Darcy House), Brendan (of Rosings), and Quince (of Trelawney Hall). Michaels quickly became an exemplary butler, and for the better part of a decade, he accompanied Anne and Nora on their travels. Eventually, he married a clever, spirited Creole dressmaker, and they combined their savings so she could open her own shop. A few years later, Michaels left De Bourgh House and opened a school to train household staff of color, which enabled his students to earn better wages commensurate with their superior skills. Indeed, Anne and Nora relied exclusively on his recommendatio
ns when they engaged new staff.
As for Elizabeth and Darcy, marriage is and always will be an adjustment. Still, the process was easier for Elizabeth than for her husband. Having grown up with four siblings and a mother with fragile nerves, she expected to hear at least one dissenting voice whenever she made a decision. For Darcy, however, it was a new experience when some of the choices he had routinely made alone suddenly required negotiation. But with Elizabeth’s gentle teasing, he soon found comfort (and more than a little relief) in sharing his responsibilities with a helpmate.
Twelve years into their marriage, Darcy—after fathering four daughters whom he adored on sight—was rather at a loss when his wife gestured for him to sit on the bed with her before she carefully placed their newborn son in his arms.
“A boy,” he said, frowning. “I have become quite accustomed to girls. I am not certain what to do with this one.”
As she shifted against the pillows, Elizabeth laughed. “I assure you, my dear, you are better prepared than I. What I know of his sex I have learned from observation. You, at least, were a boy at one time. Although ….”
Darcy, who had been gently stroking the baby’s soft, pink cheek with a light finger, looked up. “Although?”
“Although there have been times when I suspected your early years were spent as a very serious, child-sized adult.”
He chuckled. “You will have to ask Fitz and Anne. I do not recall any such thing.”
“So, while I labored to produce this Darcy, did you and the girls select a name?”
In fact, Darcy had been exceedingly grateful for the spirited discussion he had had with his daughters, as it provided some distraction from his worry about his wife. “Yes, and the girls have agreed—reluctantly in Annabel’s case—that you and I shall have the final say.”
“I salute your negotiation skills, husband.” Looking him up and down, Elizabeth said, “You are in your stocking feet. Where are your boots?”
“In the corridor. They made too much noise when I paced. Speaking of which,” Darcy gave his son a worried look, “he is very quiet. Annabel was born howling, as I recall, and Ophelia was at least making mewing sounds like a kitten. Is the boy all right?”
Elizabeth held out her arms and, reluctantly, he gave her the baby. Studying her son with the eyes of an experienced mother, she said, “His breathing is regular and sound. His color is good. I suspect the little man is simply exhausted at being thrust into the world. Now, what shall we call him? No, first, come sit with me, Will.” She patted the bed beside her.
Darcy happily stretched out beside his wife. “I would like to hold him again.”
Elizabeth lightly pressed her lips against the baby’s brow before handing him to her husband. “I hope he does not grow up to think that because he is the only boy in the family, he is in any way superior to his sisters.”
Darcy laughed. “As if Annabel, Elinor, or Ophelia would allow that! But we may need to watch Irene, for if she thinks he is being slighted, she may allow him license that his other sisters do not. She has such a tender heart, like her delightful mother.” He gave Elizabeth a loving look.
“He! His! Will, what shall we name our son?”
“Bearing in mind that our girls were expecting a sister, they put far less thought into names for boys.”
“Mr. Darcy!”
“From Annabel, we have ‘Alexander’; from Elinor, we have ‘Edward’—my middle name, you know; from Irene, we have ‘Ian,’ which I believe she read in a book by Walter Scott; and from Ophelia, we have ‘Oliver.’ For my part, although we are already burdening this tiny babe with a cruelly long name, I wish to add ‘Fitzwilliam.’”
Elizabeth relaxed into the pillows. “Those names are so much better than what I expected. I agree to them all, particularly Fitzwilliam.” She reached over and kissed her husband’s cheek.
“I love you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he murmured and kissed her lips. Turning his attention to the sleeping baby in his arms, he said, “Welcome home, Alexander Edward Ian Oliver Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
* The End *
About This Book
About The Author And This Book
After retiring from corporate life in the United States in 2014, I sold my house, donated my car to Habitat for Humanity(a wonderful organization), and eliminated 99 percent of my possessions. At present, I reside in Spain, where—finally—I am learning Spanish. (Some locals have mentioned that although I look German, I pronounce Spanish like a French person.)
One animal rescue project where I have volunteered is the Kathmandu Animal Treatment Centre (KAT Centre), which provides medical care (including sterilizations and rabies shots) to street dogs and cats in Nepal’s capital city. KAT also educates people about caring for the animals that live among them. This is a well-run organization doing important work that benefits the lives of both the street animals and the human communities in which they live. Thus, from the date “Elizabeth Bennet’s Impertinent Letter” was first published (the e-book went on sale at Amazon.com in the last week of May 2018) through December 31, 2020, all royalties earned for this work will be donated to the KAT Centre. Check YouTube for videos about their efforts. (www.facebook.com/katcentre)
“I am in favor of animal rights
as well as human rights.
That is the way of a whole human being.”
Abraham Lincoln
