Hello, readers.
Thank you for reading my story. Please leave a review and let me know how you think it is going. I appreciate your feedback up to this point.
*Please note, that I will keep it on Fanfic through March 31st, and then remove it to publish it to Amazon KU.
PS- Also, if you have Instagram or FB you can follow me. I'm going to be doing some giveaways as I get closer to release date. :)
FB- Anngela Schroeder-Author
IG-AnngelaSchroederAuthor
Epilogue–1
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet
of Pemberley
Happy was the day when Mrs. Bennet finally forgave her least favorite daughter for rejecting her cousin Collins as she married the wealthiest man in Derbyshire. For although the matron did not appear in this story, Mrs. Bennet's presence could still be felt throughout both lifetimes.
For Mr. Darcy was not the only one to feel the wrath of a mother whose daughter was spurned, but we will read more upon his experiences in a moment's time. No, the amiable Mr. Bingley did as well. From his arrival at Rosings upon receiving the letter of Darcy's illness (whose directions had been written very ill-indeed), to his own confession of the odd dreams he experienced during the last several days while on holiday at Eastbourne, Mr. Bingley felt the love and devotion of good friends and the encouragement of a most beloved sister towards his angel.
Therefore, he received quite a shock when he rode into Hertfordshire and found a most unpleasant welcome from the matriarch of Longbourn. His progress was greatly impeded until he had placated said mother by wooing her daughter and proposing within three days' time. He was swiftly accepted.
The younger Bennet girls left little significance to the story, and therefore it will only be said of them that they married well for their station (a minister, a minor country gentleman and a soldier in the regulars––you may assign to each girl the spouse you choose).
Mr. Bennet accepted Elizabeth's decision to marry Mr. Darcy with skepticism and contempt. But, he was won over after witnessing the adoration of the young man towards his favorite child.
What of the errand that took Mr. Collins away from Rosings, and then in effect Lady Catherine and Mrs. Collins as well? As the most syncophantic of minions to the great lady, Mr. Collins was tasked with acquiring a special licence for Mr. Darcy to marry his cousin Anne on the Epiphany. However, with the parson of Hunsford having more articulacy than brains, he somehow found himself mistaken for a common criminal with insane tendencies, and was carted away to Bedlam. It wasn't until an avaricious guard at the institution decided to write a letter to the noble patroness of the quirky little man, that the Grand Dame realized something was amiss, and she must set off to rescue her parson, as no one else could.
The revelation upon their return from town that Darcy and Elizabeth's fate was already decided upon, as well as Anne de Bourgh's herself, left Lady Catherine in a foul mood and with a nervous parson. Although his position at Rosings was not in jeopardy, he was still made to feel the wrath of the great Lady herself.
And what of Anne de Bourgh? The mousy spinster whose mother believed her only chance at a good match was her cousin? Her mother was right on one account–– she did only have the option of a good match with her cousin. But, unbeknownst to the matriarch of Rosings, it was a different cousin entirely. 'Annie' and 'Bucky' were wed in a quiet ceremony by the minister of Matlock house, the Fitzwilliam family's seat for over two hundred years. Although Lady Catherine railed against the union, she was drowned out by her brother and Patriarch of the Fitzwilliam family, Lord Matlock himself, who for all his blustering, really was a romantic at heart.
Georgiana did have some fond memories of her dreams from her 'other' life. She often spoke of the joy in having remembered a mother she had never really known. As a gift for her seventeenth birthday, her brother had commissioned a picture which had only existed in their dreams –– a portrait of Georgiana and both her parents which hung at Darcy/de Bourgh house in London. She cried upon seeing it, recognizing it at once from a life she had never really lived.
The other remnant of the dream–world was the memory of her marriage to Wickham. It secured her decision to only marry for an enduring love to one who valued her person more than her dowry. She determined to ensure her brother was involved in her courtship, and almost went so far as to allow him to choose her husband for her. Yet, when she realized he would choose no one and secure her living at Pemberley for the rest of her years, she took up that mantle herself. In the end, she wed a man who, much like her brother, adored his wife. Their estate was only twenty-miles from Pemberley.
And what of our beloved couple? How did the adventure affect their lives? Doting Mrs. Reynolds welcomed them home. It seemed that she had had some colorful dreams recently as well. Her cup overflowed at the addition to the new mistress of Pemberley.
Darcy had immediately written to his man of business in London, who had personally called upon Bainbridge and Sons to confirm the solvency of the Fitzroy account. It was still quite intact.
He also took it upon himself to pay special attention to a certain tenant's cottage. Going with his wife, he visited the home of the shepherd, Jonathan Smith whose Aunt Clara also resided there. She mentioned she had played with the Elder Mr. Darcy as a child, and that the current Mr. Darcy looked so much like him. He made sure she was never a burden, and upon her death saw to the expenses of the funeral himself. It was the least he could do for someone who could have been his mother.
And what of George Wickham from their dreams? He was not one who purely loved Darcy, so therefore his presence was nil. Elizabeth received a letter from her mother that he had left the militia and journeyed to America to seek his fortune and was never heard from again.
But that still does not clear up the mystery of his propensity to burn Rosings' furniture. What had he been searching for? The truth was not revealed until after Lady Catherine's death when Anne and the Colonel were redecorating a room in Rosings and had sent a piece of furniture to Pemberley for Georgiana: the writing desk from Lady Anne Darcy.
As Elizabeth was investigating the intricate patterns of the piece, she unintentionally stumbled upon a hidden button which sprung a small secret compartment. Within, was an envelope with "My love" written in thin script.
"William, come. I have discovered something."
Darcy handed his eldest son, Henry, off to Nanny Flora, and shooed his three daughters back to the playroom.
"What is it, my love?"
She reached out and handed him the letter with the broken wax seal of the Darcy crest. "I found this in the dresser, and wanted you to read it first in case there was significance. Do you know the writing?"
He was stunned for a moment, before reverently replying. "Yes. It is my mother's." He broke open the pages, and read, a low whistle escaping. "This is what Wickham was looking for."
"Wickham? George Wickham? When was he looking for anything?"
"In…another time. Why he was burning all the furniture. To find this."
He held out the parchment to her, she took it, and began to read:
"I am at a loss, my husband having just left for London for a few days, and I at Rosings. He just spoke to Lewis and was presented with a most unsettling claim––that he is not the father of young Anne, my name sake. He claims to have found proof that Catherine had taken a lover and Anne was the result of that affair. Truth be told, with Angus McBride, the groomsman. Lewis is at a loss, and my husband has counseled him to not act too hastily; to make certain his claims are accurate. Their discussiong was interrupted by Catherine herself who had poured her husband a glass of wine from his favorite bottle in the cellar. After a few moments, Lewis said he felt dizzy, so George excused myself so he could rest. How Lewis must feel! Of course he is dizzy. Oh, my sister! I would not think it of her, but have just now realized, after much contemplation, her attention to the stables. How she has become a much better horse woman over the last several years. Her interest in horseflesh has increased as well, where I was the rider growing up.
What is to be done as Anne is almost ten years old? I am at a loss, but need the counsel of my husband, and wish to discuss this with him further. However, until he returns from London, I will take comfort in my sweet William and this darling child growing within me. George and I have created our own happiness, and I will focus on that. I will choose the life I love."
Darcy was visibly shaken and sat on the chair staring at the parchment. "My cousin? Anne?"
"Did you ever have an inkling?"
"Never," he said running his hand through his hair.
"Did your father and Uncle not pursue this further?"
"Apparently not. My Uncle Lewis died when I was twelve…" He snatched at the papers, and opened the parchment again, scanning for the date. "April twelfth…"
"Yes? What significance does that day hold?"
Darcy looked at Elizabeth before responding. "Uncle Lewis died on the 14th of April. Only two days after this letter."
A gasp escaped Elizabeth's lips. "Two days? How did he die?"
A long pause preceded his reply. "The doctors could not give a satisfactory reason. They believed he ate something which did not agree with him, and he expired."
"Something that did not agree with him?"
"Yes. One of the doctors even implied…" here he paused. "Poison."
"Poison? Who would have––" Elizabeth paused, her eyes growing large, and her moth forming and 'O.' "You do not believe that…"
"I know what you are thinking, and my own mind has travesered down that path in the last several seconds. The evidence is inconclusive. We cannot suppose my Aunt, a daughter of an Earl would ever stoop to the level of a common criminal."
But, for all his protestations, a silent understanding was conveyed. After a moment, she spoke again. "But, William…if we are to look any good from this letter, you yourself have received a letter from the grave. How your mother loved you."
A wistful smile tugged at his lips. "Yes. And I her."
They were silent for a moment, until Elizabeth asked, "How would Wickham have known about her writing this?"
"I am uncertain. There are things in dreams that do not make sense––where the start does not match the finish. I cannot explain why Wickham knew to look for this letter, but I know he did. I am just grateful he did not find it. And now, I will do what my mother should have done when it was discovered, instead of locking it away."
He walked over to the fireplace and removed the grate. "William, wait! You cannot burn such sweet words from your mother."
"Elizabeth. This has the ability to ruin the lives of those we both love. I cannot allow my sentimentality to be the cause for another's destruction."
She grabbed the paper from his hand, and quickly tore it in two removing the offending words from the missive, and then dropped it onto the embers. The flames licked the paper, before igniting, and erasing any evidence of Sir. Lewis's claims to his brother by marriage.
"Do you recall an Angus McBride on staff at Rosings?" She walked over and wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his arm.
"Yes. He died several years before Aunt Catherine. His son was Ian…" Darcy snapped his head up. "Ian who tendered his resignation after I awoke from the incident. He has not been heard from since."
"You do not know what became of him?"
Darcy shook his head. "I believe he was to move to the North and work in a mill. But, I do not know. He was not my servant, and I was indisposed at the time."
They stood together and stared into the flames of the fire. "Then, this secret dies with us, my love."
"Yes. I cannot bring a supposition to Richard and ruin his and Anne's life. It would do no good."
"It would not."
And so the Darcy's of Pemberley, united in cause, once again proved their compatibility, and love for each other and those in their care. They chose a life worth living for themselves and those they loved, and they lived a life worth choosing for the rest of their days.
