Chapter II.

Pemberley, 1820.

Georgiana Blakeney looked up as the doors to the music room were opened by a footman, signalling that her brother was about to come through with the latest addition to the Darcy family. The children near her stopped playing instantly, all equally curious as to what was about to happen.

Sure enough he came through the door with boyish smile upon his face and a bundle in his arms. "Come and welcome your new niece, Georgiana."

The youngest children of the Darcys, twins Alexander and Alexandra, tried to rush up to greet their father but their elder siblings Lawrence and Heloise, held them back. They had been through this already and knew that it was wrong to disturb their father with the new baby until they were asked.

Georgiana came up to her brother and peered down at the bundle in his arms. "She's beautiful," she cried softly instantly. "What have you called her?"

"Imogen," Darcy replied as they moved to sit down on one of the sofas. He gestured for the children to come and see the child. Six children came up to the sofa and clustered around their father and, for two of them, uncle, to see what he held in his arms.

"I think I see why she was named Imogen."

Darcy looked up at his brother in law. "How is that, Michael?"

"I can tell from here that she's the image of her mother."

Darcy chuckled. "That's exactly what I first thought."

"How is Lizzy?" Georgiana asked.

"She's a little exhausted, it was a long time. She's getting some rest at the moment. I'll let her sleep in there until she wakes up."

Hunsford Parsonage, Kent.

"Thank you, Sir, for coming so far. You had a pleasant journey I trust?"

"Yes I did."

"Did Lady Catherine's..."

"Please, Mr Collins, I did not come here to listen to you talk about Lady Catherine. You wanted to see me about something to do with Longbourn. What is it?"

"I am afraid that I cannot inherit it, sir."

Mr Bennet looked at his host puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I believe, sir, that there is a clause in your late father's will that forbade entail if the heir to that entail was not able to... that is..."

"Mr Collins, please get to the point."

"I cannot have children sir. That is, my wife is not able to..."

"I understand, Mr Collins," Mr Bennet replied quickly. He hated travelling, except to Derbyshire, and wanted this visit to end as quickly as possible. Now he realised, it was going to take a little longer than he had anticipated. "Er, when did you find this out?"

Mr Collins hesitated. He had no desire to confess that they had never even tried for children, let alone the real truth; that it was not Charlotte's problem but his own. "About a week ago, sir."

Mr Bennet made no comment on this, surprised as he was. Until now he had never heard of the clause that Mr Collins referred to. "Well, thank you for telling me this Mr Collins. I fear I must be leaving now."

"Will you not stay for tea? Lady Catherine, I am sure..."

"I thank you, Mr Collins, but I am afraid I must decline. I have a pressing appointment with my lawyers in town." At least now he did. This was going to need some careful investigation to find out what happened next. If it could not go to Mr Collins and it could not go to his daughters, then who could it go to?

The 35th Regiment camp, Newcastle.

In the end, Mrs Lawford was spared the unpleasant task of acquainting her friend with the news of Captain Wickham's death, for Mrs Wickham determined it herself, when her friend had been allowed to visit her.

Mrs Lawford could remember her reaction well. Indeed she had been most surprised by it. She had considered once to have many things in common with her friend Mrs Wickham. She like Mrs Lawford herself, had eloped with her husband, and until today, Mrs Lawford had let the romance of it cloud her true judgement of the state of affections between the two.

Yet now, as she looked at her friend in shock, as she listened to her reaction, Mrs Lawford began to wonder what it was in the first place which has caused the Wickhams to leave all their friends, to elope to Newcastle.

"He is dead then?" Had been the only words Mrs Wickham had uttered. It had been more a statement than a question, yet Mrs Lawford chose to treat it as the latter. She confirmed it with sad acknowledgement.

Mrs Wickham made no reply. The babe in her arms stirred but instead of looking at her, Lydia turned to the window, as tears continued to elude her features.