I thank everybody that reads and reviews this story and Gaeilge, for betaing it. As always, I will answer the comments from last chapter now, but I saw that somone asked about the squirrel. There is no more information about the animal here or in the next ones, but in my mind the squirrel survived if that helps.

Previously in chapter ten…

Elizabeth and Anne continue their self-imposed achievements and Lady Catherine prevents them to visit their cousins in London for Christmas. They spend the holidays at Rosings with some friends of the family, and after an accident with a squirrel, Lady Catherine leaves to be with her sister, who is labouring.

Chapter eleven: Five types of…

It did not take long for the dreaded letter to arrive at Rosings, carrying the news of Lady Anne's passing in childbirth. Sir Lewis was asked to bring the girls to London immediately.

The journey was quiet and awkward. Sir Lewis was as aloof as usual while Anne was lost in thought for most of the trip. Lizzy, however, was distressed and dreaded seeing everyone, as she recalled her feelings after losing her own family.

When they arrived at Darcy House, there were more people gathered than she felt comfortable with, but they all appeared to be family. Glancing at Anne, Elizabeth could see she was anxious. Anne had never been surrounded by so many people and as far they knew, she was barely able to speak and she was quite lethargic. Lizzy gently squeezed her hand and they began searching for Lady Catherine. They found her sitting in a chair, staring at a spot on the wall, oblivious to everyone and everything, until they stood in front of her. Her stern demeanour broke as she embraced her children, cooing words they could not understand. Shortly after, Lord and Lady Matlock approached, followed by their sons. Seeing Richard's mournful expression, Lizzy ran to him.

"Lizzy! I am glad to see you here, even if these are not the best circumstances" whispered the boy.

Richard then turned to his brother and introduced him to the girl, however, her attention was engaged elsewhere. Mr. Darcy and Fitzwilliam stood just a few feet away. Standing straight and stiff, faces unreadable, with tired eyes and listless movements, they had never before appeared so similar. Near them stood another young boy she did not know, but concluded this must be the infamous George Wickham, from Fitzwilliam's letters.

Anne and Lizzy approached the gentlemen and exchanged greetings. Mr. Darcy expressed pleasure in seeing Anne's improvement, then fell silent. Elizabeth wanted to embrace Fitzwilliam but did not dare. She began to inquire about the new-born but thought perhaps it would bring pain to be reminded of the cause of Lady Anne's passing so she returned to Lady Catherine's side, instead.

The day was exhausting and everyone was relieved as the gathering began to break up. Lizzy and the de Bourghs would remain at Darcy House until the relatives staying at Matlock left the next morning.

Lizzy could not sleep. She was thinking about Fitzwilliam, whom she had grown to admire through his letters. He did not express any pain at the loss of his mother, but she knew what it was to lose one's parents, and the strength he exhibited to display his emotions astounded her. After a few moments of hesitation, she left her bed and carefully left her chamber.

Lizzy knocked on Fitzwilliam's door and waited. She heard quick footsteps, then silence, followed by more pacing. Fitzwilliam finally opened the door and Lizzy knew, by his solemn expression and red, swollen eyes, that he had been crying.

"Oh, Lizzy, it is you. I am sorry, but I would rather be alone. Thank you."

He was about to close the door but she put her foot out to stop it. "My parents are dead."

She did not say anything else and they looked at each for a few moments. Fitzwilliam felt uncomfortable and realizing his thoughtlessness, opened the door and allowed her to enter. Sighing as she entered his room, she took a moment before turning to see him staring intently at her.

"Five types of carriages."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have to say five different types of carriages."

He frowned and saw Lizzy was still waiting for him to answer.

"Well… A phaeton, a gig, a mail coach..."

"No, not like that! You must be more creative" said the little girl in a teasing manner. "A carriage that can fly, one that can sing... You see?"

He nodded slowly and she could see the shade of a smile.

"A carriage that barks, one that can tease the highwaymen, one that plays the pianoforte, one that understands Richard's jokes and one that hates balls."

She laughed, happy to see that her game was working. He spoke again. "Your turn. Five types of... houses"

"A house with another house inside, one who eats children, one that gossips with other houses, one that is full of raccoons and one that knows the weather for the next day. Five types of horses!"

"Horses that know they are horses, horses that cheat while playing cards, horses that… follow the rules of propriety, horses that cannot die…" He stopped speaking and Lizzy's eyes widened, but Fitzwilliam continued with "...and horses that wake you up in the morning." Lizzy released the breath she was holding. "Five types of gowns."

"The ones that would make Lady Catherine scream at you, gowns that want to be coats, the ones that catch and reflect the sunbeams..."

They continued their game for quite some time moving from five things someone would say to five secrets the servants keep and ending up with five words that are a mouthful.

"Warm worms!"

"That is two words. Fitzwilliam is better than that."

"What is wrong with my name?"

"Everything!"

They laughed for quite some time until they could no longer stay awake and fell asleep, both feeling better.

Fitzwilliam woke up some hours later. It was still dark and little Lizzy was next to him, curled up under the sheets. He could hear her breathing softly and memories of their game brought a smile to his face. She had managed to distract him from the pain and loss of his mother's death, which suddenly washed over him, erasing the hint of a smile that he had carried just a moment ago. Sighing, he carefully left the bed so as not to disturb her sleep, exited his room and made his way to the stairs. He was about to head down but turned to the nursery instead. He had yet to see his sister. He had been sequestered in another room during the birth, too worried about his mother to focus on anything else. He stood before the door for several minutes, his thoughts and feelings in turmoil. On the one hand, he resented the baby; if she did not exist, his mother would still be alive. On the other hand, everyone had been thrilled at the idea of the new addition, and he could not blame her. Now, knowing Lizzy, and seeing her wit and liveliness, he wanted to have a sister just like her to care for.

He opened the door very carefully so as not to disturb either the baby or her nurse in the next room. Little Georgiana was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the pain filling the house. He looked at the baby for quite a while, examining her soft features and thinking that his mother had created this beautiful creature. He would take care of her and honour the memory of his mother, Lady Anne Darcy.

After leaving the nursery, he thought to visit the room where his mother's body rested peacefully, but reconsidered. The previous day had not been easy, with all their relatives coming to pay their respects and, feeling restless, returned to his chambers. It appeared Lizzy had awoken and left his room, as she was no longer tucked under the covers. He tried to sleep but could not as his mind was too full of recent events.

Sleep evaded Elizabeth as well, for the remainder of the night, though for quite different reasons. She was in London and the last time she had been here, her life had changed forever. She did not want to think about her family but it could not be helped when she was overcome by a sudden thought. The morning she and her father left Longbourn, her mother explained that Aunt and Uncle Gardiner were on the continent so there would be no visit with her London relations. But that did not mean they were dead or would not be returning, eventually. Then she thought of her Aunt and Uncle Phillips. Perhaps she could send them a letter, as she did with Richard and Fitzwilliam! But, would they be angry with her after all these months without any word from her? Aunt Phillips was usually angry with her for no apparent reason, much like her mother was. If she wrote to them, would she be parted from Anne? Would she ever see Richard and Fitzwilliam again? Mr. Warlock? Lady Catherine? She did not know what to do and several hours passed without reaching a resolution.

In the morning, Elizabeth descended the stairs, where she found Anne speaking with Richard, who was quite impressed with Anne's evident improvement and pride filled her chest. Fitzwilliam joined them shortly thereafter. He looked exhausted and was dishevelled but wanted to be with them. There, in that house, surrounded by friends, despite the terrible circumstances, Lizzy was comforted. She felt at home and though she had lost her own family, she was glad she had all of them.

Lizzy tried not to think about the rest of her family that day; in fact, she pushed thoughts of them aside, in an attempt to reassure herself she was making the right decision.

This is the last chapter before we jump some years ahead, so I hope it was a good one to finish this period of time.

Now, I would say it is your turn to play 'Five types of'. You can choose one or do both:

1. Five types of petticoats.

2. Five things Mr. Collins would say about XXI Century.