Epilogue:
"Oh, George! You have pulled off your ribbon again!" Lydia Bennet said in frustration as her black and pink piglet walked away from the chewed up shreds of a bright pink ribbon.
"You really must behave better," said the girl as she flounced over to her dressing table. From a drawer she pulled out another length of pink ribbon, this one longer than the first. She picked up her pet and despite its attempts at resistance she wrapped the ribbon twice around its, although not too tightly, finishing with a big bow, which she double knotted for good measure.
"There, that is perfect," she said. "We are all ready for entertaining callers."
The piglet did not look convinced, but it was too small to have much say in the matter.
Lydia carried her pet out of her room and down the stairs to the drawing room. She entered to find her mother already deep in conversation with her guests, Lady Lucas, Mrs. Long, Mrs. Goulding and a few others. Mrs. Phillips was absent. Mrs. Bennet had refused to see her sister ever since finding out Mr. Darcy had given Mrs. Phillips two beautiful lengths of lace but had given nothing to her, the mother of his bride. One length, given as a hostess gift she could understand, but two! The second one should have been hers.
Her annoyance at Mrs. Phillips and Mr. Darcy did not prevent Mrs. Bennet from bragging to all her friends of the brilliant match her second daughter had made in marrying him. "Ten thousand a year!" she often exclaimed, although she privately wondered why none of that money ever found its way to her. She frequent wrote Lizzy hinting that money and other gifts were perfectly acceptable to her, but the child seemed to stupid to understand.
This day Mrs. Bennet was bragging about both of her elder daughters matches. Mr. Bingley was not quite as wealthy as his friend, but after the frustrating way Jane had behaved in turning down Mr. Carver last spring he was all she deserved. At least Jane was smart enough to send gifts, although they were rather small.
Lydia sat down with the piglet on her lap. She took a cup of tea and two small cakes, one for her and one for George. The piglet happily at its cake, then settled down for a nap in her lap while Lydia listened to her mother and drank her tea.
Mrs. Bennet had gone on to how Mrs. Darcy had invited her Mary for a visit and now a friend of Mr. Darcy was courting her third daughter.
"I would have been married first if Mr. Wickham had not disappeared!" Lydia complained with a frustrated bounce in her seat that woke the piglet and caused him to roll off her lap just as the tea from the cup she held in her hand spilled all over him.
All the ladies screamed at the site of a naked man suddenly appearing on the drawing room floor. He rolled in agony as he tried to pull the now far too tight pink ribbon from his throat. He knocked the tea service over, scattering the cakes and shattering the pot, cups and plate. Lydia's chair had been thrown over backwards and she sprawled in a tangle of skirts crying over her bruised head. Mrs. Bennet also had fallen over, but her head had knocked against the mantlepiece and she would no longer cry about that or anything else again.
No one thought to cut the ribbon before the man strangled. It was only after he was dead that anyone recognized the man on the floor as George Wickham.
The scandal of the two deaths, one so very inexplicable, spread far and wide. It even made it into the newspapers.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy received a garbled account of the matter from Mrs. Phillips. It was a second hand account, so missing many important details, but the Darcys understood more of what may have happened than most would. Mrs. Darcy insisted her husband should not feel guilty for never removing Wickham from the Bennet household. The man deserved his life as a pet pig and his death was nothing but a relief, despite its horrific nature. They did wonder what might happen if the pond where Lady Catherine the frog resided warmed up enough to change her back some hot summer day. It was out of their control, so they speculated a bit, but that was all.
Anne de Bourgh eventually heard of the events in Meryton as well. She, too, thought that George Wickham had gotten nothing more than he deserved. Since she had sent him the curse other information about him had come to her attention. She knew he was a gambler who cheated regularly and stole when he could. She had heard that ever since his school days he had left a trail of ruined women in his wake. The world would not miss George Wickham.
As Anne had explained to Mr. Darcy, her father's secret drawer had contained the three envelopes with the curse powder, a set of instructions and three small vials of antidote. The instructions had identified the effects of the curse in each envelope which could be identified by a small mark in the corner. The curse envelope was delivered by magic. As instructed, she wrote the name of the receiver on the envelope while concentrating on an image of that person. To send it she then dropped three drops of hot water on the mark, which erased it and caused the envelope to disappeared from her desk and appear in a place where the curse would fall upon the named person. Anne liked that it was both simple and that the curse would target only who she wanted and not affect anyone else by accident.
She had no worries about what might happen if the pond warmed. The frog that had once been her mother was removed from the dining room to the pond in the side yard. Anne had taken to watching the pond from the small balcony off her room while she had her morning chocolate. She had almost choked with glee the day she saw the distinctively marked amphibian gobbled by a hungry heron.
As far as Anne de Bourgh was concerned, it was a happy ending for all.