Pemberley, July 1816
Elizabeth was troubled to find a new housekeeper. Mrs. Reynolds, after more than twenty-five years of service to the Darcy household, wished to retire to live near the sea with her sister. It was the most difficult task Elizabeth had been set as mistress of Pemberley and occupied most of her time.
Catherine came, as usual, to stay for her four week summer visit. She was occupied with Georgiana in visiting friends in the neighborhood and in tasks about Pemberley and in being a companion and friend and Elizabeth did not see much of her sister. Elizabeth was happy that Catherine was so comfortable with her visits to Pemberley. Kitty had, perhaps, fewer friends at home now—she and Mary had never been close—and she really enjoyed Pemberley and the surrounding area.
Elizabeth thought it good for Catherine to come visit. She suspected a lot of the care fell on Catherine's shoulders for Lydia and baby George. Catherine did laugh, as she spoke, of the antics of their nephew Charles and baby Henry though she did not really speak about them overly much. Jane had two sons, Lydia one and yet Elizabeth had not yet had a child. Even Mrs. Collins was expecting a second child now.
The year, so far, had been a busy one. There had been all the preparations for a long stay in London for Georgiana's presentation at court and formal come-out and then on top of it—such a wedding! Lord Radbourne and Lady Frederica's society wedding. All their time in London it had meant that not a day was free, and Elizabeth would have been lost without Lady Susanna's help. Georgiana had been eager this spring: had risen to do what was required, had a new confidence and sailed through the balls, the fetes, the parties and events as if a great lady born to such a station. It was almost too much for Elizabeth—it had not been a life Elizabeth had never really led.
Georgiana once loosed from her love of George Wickham and no longer haunted by the memories of their ill-fated elopement embraced a new life as though in London she could remake herself. She wove a new role becoming a young, beautiful heiress, much admired. She still had shy moments but the popularity of a dowry of 30,000 pounds gave her a boost she had never known. Georgiana's fortune did make her sought-after and Darcy and the male cousins: Fitzwilliam, the two de Bourgh brothers and some younger Selbournes kept faithful eyes on Georgiana who seemed happily oblivious to the reputations of the men she encountered in London drawing rooms.
Mr. Darcy found himself with far more applications for Georgiana's hand in marriage than he could ever have imagined. He had been looking haggard all that spring with frequent trips home to see to estate business which cropped up and to make a final choice to replace Mr. Hunt in the living in Kympton. And then to be pestered by marriage proposals had made him a little thinner in person and looking a little older. He bore all his responsibilities well, however, refused all of Georgiana's would-be suitors and they finished up the season and came home in early June.
Elizabeth had been glad to have Fitzwilliam to escort her when Darcy was gone for a week at a time to Derbyshire and back. He was a devoted companion by her side, and helped her through the sometimes long and lonely evenings with lively discussions which harkened back to their time at Rosings when they had first met. Overall, Georgiana was happy and held onto her heart, which was perhaps best. Darcy, on his last trip to Derbyshire, came back through Hertfordshire to pick up Catherine and so Kitty had two weeks of a London season to her utter delight before they all returned to Pemberley together.
It was a gentle evening. Dinner at Pemberley was to be a nice little party with the Stanhopes, the Rev. and Mrs. Worth and his ex-curate, now the vicar for the church at Kympton, Mr. Watson, and the Alport family: Mr. and Mrs. Alport and their son, Robert, former lieutenant, he of the amputated arm.
The gentlemen were not overly long at their Port and when they returned the young men, Mr. Robert Alport and Mr. Watson went to sit with Georgiana and Catherine. They were all good friends, thought Elizabeth, at least Mr. Alport was becoming a good friend with his return to his family after losing his arm at Waterloo. She suggested cards but then blanched as Mr. Alport might have difficulty playing with one hand so as the day had been hot, she suggested a stroll in the gardens.
As soon as the couples had left, Mrs. Stanhope immediately suggested, a little rudely, to Elizabeth that a chaperone was needed for the young people, but Elizabeth replied that the bright light of the moon would ensure no trouble would be had, besides, she added, she would send dour Mr. Darcy after them if they did not return in fifteen minutes.
She wondered that she was no longer thought as a maiden, but as a married woman, playing the role of chaperone, though in this case, since it was her sister—or sisters—Catherine and Georgiana, she was thinking more of their relief from the rather sullen talk that married couples engaged in about neighborhood news. There was much to gossip about.
A memorial to the local fallen men of Waterloo was being planned though where to place it could not be agreed upon. Mrs. Hunt, the late vicar's wife had given birth to a baby after her husband passed away. There were some funds being raised to help her out as she had two other sons besides and no one was sure if she had any other means of support. One of the Bell brothers was said to be overloaded with gambling debts, so had come home to Kympton to live. And Mr. Worth was also raising some money for poor relief as the number of young women with babies in the parish had increased. Apparently local young men were moving west to Birmingham with the prospects of higher pay but leaving sweethearts and their issue behind on the charity of the parish. There was a lot of discussion about this subject.
The young people returned in due time, longer than Mrs. Stanhope would have wished, but with flushed cheeks from the chilling air, despite its being summer, and laughing at being able to get out of the drawing room.
Darcy stood at the open doorway of the dressing room and watched Elizabeth brush her hair as if she had forgotten her stroke count so continued without end, staring not at herself in the mirror, but at some memory instead. He coughed to announce his presence and she looked up and smiled, her eyes, those eyes that had always enchanted him, smiling at him with warmth.
"It was a pleasant evening, was it not?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied, coming up beside her. She stood and looked at him, and touched his arm. He leaned down to kiss her, a gesture she returned. He pulled back then to smile at her.
"Mr. Watson came back in, after the others had left to see me," he said, smiling. She looked at him a little confused. "He asked for Catherine's hand in marriage," he was pleased.
"Mr. Watson!" her surprise was evident.
"They have known each other since Catherine first came to us; they are well acquainted and it is a good match," he said looking at her, surprised by her reaction, "what troubles you?"
"I guess I had not suspected the interest between them. And I had hopes," she paused, a part of her loath to admit such a thing, "there are so many fine gentleman hereabouts, I had hopes she would catch the eye of one of them."
"He is a decent man, Elizabeth. The living at Kympton is a good one, five hundred pounds a year; they would live well enough and she would be near you now, all year." He took her into his arms, "and I will settle as marriage articles a thousand pounds on her for she has become like a sister to me and Georgiana. I have been doubly blessed to have both her and you," and he kissed her, and her hands snaked up under his dressing gown to his nightshirt to clasp him to her.
"You are a decent man, Darcy," she said as she led him to bed.
Catherine, of course, tackled her as soon as she came down to breakfast to tell her all about Mr. Watson proposing in the rose garden the night before. Georgiana knew all about it. Elizabeth recalled that she had seen them walking arm-in-arm on their way up to bed, whispering back and forth, and she was a little hurt until she thought that Kitty would not have braved knocking at her bedroom door now that she was a married lady, that Catherine might be worried that Mr. Darcy, and rightly so, might be in her chambers.
She also suspected that Georgiana had known all about it with their close confidences since Georgiana and Mr. Alport had apparently separated from Mr. Watson and Catherine to allow Mr. Watson the chance to proclaim himself in the Pemberley rose garden the night before. Not that Mr. Alport had any intentions, poor one-armed gentleman, for Georgiana. He had sold his commission and seemed at a loss as to what to do with himself, though like many others he had received a pension of two year's pay for his services at Waterloo.
Mr. Bennet, of course, had to be formally applied to, though she did not think her father would object particularly if Mr. Darcy, who sanctioned the match, was giving Catherine an additional thousand pounds on top of the thousand Mr. Bennet would give Kitty. The match with Mr. Watson was concluded in a swift amount of time.
In August, Pemberley was descended upon by the entire Bennet family—and the Bingley family for the first time in ages—and it was full of babies and that nursery once again was scrubbed out to properly receive them. And though Mr. Gardiner was only able to come, because of his business, for a few days for the wedding, Mrs. Gardiner and the children were able once again to come for an extended stay. And Elizabeth found perfect contentment in being the mistress of a great estate, to be able to gather her family to her and to be able to find amusements for them. And yet that nursery, so full of children she could not number the exact count, did not contain a Darcy child lying in a cradle.
Catherine was married from Pemberley. The Reverend Worth, Mr. Watson's old master, doing the honors and all the neighborhood rejoiced, both Catherine and Mr. Watson were well respected and loved in the surrounding neighborhoods of Lambton and Kympton.
Lydia came to Pemberley for the first time with little baby George. She had not yet been fitted for a leg and still hobbled on a crutch and occasionally needed the services of a footman when her body grew weary to cart her from one room to another, especially if it involved moving up or down stairs. Someone, half joking, suggested she be introduced to Mr. Robert Alport, since they were both missing limbs and might make an interesting couple. Elizabeth flinched at the suggestion unsure that Lydia was ready to marry again but Lydia did not mourn Mr. Wickham; she did not speak of him anymore. As eager as Lydia had been to follow him to Waterloo because she could not be parted from him and as much as she had shed tears when Lizzy had visited her the past summer; she seemed to be content with her baby and be content to be happy with the life in front of her. She was happy even to flirt a little, though the charms of a widowed nineteen year old with a baby and little money did not hold sway for many gentlemen and Mr. Alport did not find her as charming as was suggested.
Darcy rejoiced in having Bingley in his home at last and they enjoyed many hours of conversation. He dutifully admired Bingley's sons and he grinned with Bingley when he hinted that there might yet be another on its way. Bingley's sons looked exactly like him though he thought it might be perhaps the caps of red hair, just like their father, for their large round heads made them look like any child let alone a Bennet or a Bingley.