Chapter 5

Despite her trepidation in taking on the role, the Countess of Sudbury was a success. Her sister's friends in town readily took her on as an acquaintance, and with a husband who supported her every move, she gained confidence. Her personality was such as to be more of a follower than a leader, but as the London ton has a disproportionate number of ladies who wish to be leaders, a follower of her rank was a popular addition to their society.

The months they spent in town were not Kitty's favourite, though; she much preferred Willicot, where they raised their substantial family – three sons and three daughters. The Kents did not quite match them, with three sons and one daughter, but both families found all of their offspring successful, many of their sons studying the law, a few following their fathers into the army, and their daughters all marrying well. The middle Kent son, although a successful solicitor in Derby, soon found his heart called back to the place where he had grown up, and he studied under his father with plans to eventually take over as Willicot's steward.

Willicot thrived, under the attentions of Henry, Kent, and his son. Under its roof remained Mr. Bennet, through his lengthy final years. That gentleman deeply missed his old companion, but he occupied himself with reading as well as his greatest amusement, which was refusing to turn over Longbourn to Mr. Collins. He leased the house out instead, giving the proceeds to Mary, comparably the poorest of his daughters, so that funds could be set aside for her children. Many letters were written by Mr. Collins, endeavouring to convince Mr. Bennet that this was not the best course for the house and estate, and each letter enlivened the old man, who stated he was determined to live as long as he could, just to spite his cousin. Charlotte was enlisted in this letter-writing campaign as well, but while she wrote often to Mrs. Darcy, her letters never actually contained those lines her husband exhorted her to include.

Visits amongst their families continued with great frequency, and as soon as Julia Colbourne grew old enough to play with young Elizabeth Darcy, the two girls did become close friends. Elizabeth was always happy to see Julia, and to play with her older brothers, but she remained of a shy temperament and also revelled in those times she could curl up in a quiet corner of the nursery with just her little spaniel, her shawl, and her doll.

Julia, meanwhile, was never for a moment a frail bark. Although each bout of sickness worried her parents deeply, she ploughed through the usual childhood illnesses with remarkably robust health. The mere thought of a governess made her mother jealous of her only child's time, and so Georgiana devoted herself to her daughter's education, drawing on her own extensive accomplishments to teach the girl and bringing in masters in those areas that required deeper expertise.

Had Georgiana's aunt heard of this, she would have been most seriously displeased, but as those of the family who had maintained some acquaintance with Lady Catherine tired of her constant complaints over how ill her nephews had used her, they minimised contact more and more over the years. Anne de Bourgh did not outlive her own mother, which left Lady Catherine with the dilemma of what to do with Rosings when she felt it should remain in the family but was angry with that family. With great frequency did she rewrite her will, alternating between leaving the estate to Fitzwilliam Darcy and Henry Fitzwilliam, and even in a six-month fit of particular pique, to the Foundling Hospital. When finally she died, it was Henry who won that particular lottery, and in his own fit of pique stated that he would not bring it into the fold of his other estates – instead it should go to his second son.

This, however, is a digression from Miss Colbourne's talents, which should not be abandoned so easily. When the young lady came out into society, she was an immediate sensation: highly accomplished, an heiress with a pretty countenance and the good humour of her adoptive parents. There were whispers of some scandal in her past, but her adoption by the Colbournes had done both her and Miss Darcy good, in muddying the waters when it came to their parentage. There were still some whispers regarding the two young ladies, but they never took hold, which may be attributed to the active efforts of Lady Astley to thwart those who would whisper.

That parentage might have been cause for concern, that both of the young ladies should inherit their true father's bad qualities. Yet if they did, these qualities never emerged: raised in loving households with parents who taught them goodness, neither of them ever gave their families a moment's concern. Julia held a deep affection for the people she had thought to be her parents, and when finally they told her of her true history, her only reaction could be gratitude towards them – she loved aunt Elizabeth as an aunt, but could not have wanted her life to be otherwise than what it had been. As for Elizabeth, the guilt never entirely left her, but she felt it less and less over the years as she watched Julia thrive.

Miss Colbourne had the good fortune to come out in the same year a young duke was turning his mind to matrimony; he was delighted to find that genuine goodness of heart laid beneath the veneer of the young lady's fortune and accomplishments. He proposed at the end of that season, and Georgiana gave her daughter willingly up to matrimony. She had cherished every scrap of Julia's time she could claim during her girlhood, but had always felt as though it was borrowed, as though every moment could be stolen from her. Although she wept during the future duchess's wedding, still she was filled with the greatest happiness that her frail bark had come to shore, that the Colbournes would give her up to a man she loved, one who delighted in making her happy.

Miss Darcy and Miss Colbourne were not, of course, the only children that could claim a blood tie to Alexander Beauford. Young Lord Neston might have been expected to turn out much as his father had done, given the same man was raising him. But Lord Neston had the good fortune to lose his father at the age of four. He became the ward of a kindly, childless baronet and his equally gentle wife, and was raised better by them than he could have hoped to have been by anyone with the surname of Beauford. He knew nothing of any South Sea fortune, and met his majority with an estate much improved by the investment of his poor, dead mother's 20,000 pounds. Left to his own devices he might have attempted to mix with those who would have considered his surname reason enough for concern, but his guardian gracefully steered him from that lee shore, understanding well enough that while the young man might have been open to friendship, the Darcys would never want anything beyond peace.

Those Darcys continued to mix in society, but only so far as it made them both happy. They stayed in town long enough to enjoy the time with their friends and no more, and they did not go to town at all, in the year they welcomed their last child together into the world – Jory Charles, born with his father clasping his mother's hand and both of them openly weeping, to be experiencing this together for the first time in eight years. They raised all of their children contentedly together in Derbyshire, and although there were still occasional days when Elizabeth's memories brought her low, the gentle love of her husband always brought her through them.

Jory Charles's namesake continued on for many years just as Darcy had hoped he would, the chief boatmaster and fisherman for the estate, alongside Eseld the provider of many cosy hours within their cottage and several happy family trips back to Mousehole. When Jory's heart finally proved that it was not truly boundless and gave out, they all grieved as if they had lost a grandfather and father; Darcy, particularly, felt the loss as that of a second father, and was deeply grateful for the comforts of his wife. It took a large amount of coaxing, to convince Eseld to move into the great house with them after that, but eventually she allowed herself to be moved into a bedroom stripped of much of its finery, living out the remainder of her days amidst the love of the Darcys and the assistance of Susan.

The elder Darcy children were every bit as fortunate in love as Julia. William, in particular, delighted his parents by falling in love with Miss Astley. Meg and her husband had been frequent visitors to Pemberley over the years, and they had brought their eldest daughter with them the summer before she was to come out into society. The attraction between William and the young lady had been immediate – they had wanted to be betrothed and wed as soon as it could be done. While pleased, their parents had been more hesitant, with the lady so young; the couple were permitted to announce an engagement and correspond with each other, but required to wait a year before they could be wed. That time had only strengthened their affections; by the time they were finally allowed to marry, everyone was certain it was to be a lasting love, and it was only for their parents to delight in how ties of friendship had now turned into bonds of family.

Little Henry had remained close to his elder brother as the boys grew up – even when the differences in their expectations were explained to him, something that might have torn apart other sons. He resolved rather early in his life that the church was the right career for him, and had the ease of knowing that the living of Kympton would be his when the incumbent died. As the incumbent had been selected by his father with plans that a son should someday take over the living, it was not long after Henry had taken holy orders that the Kympton living became his. This was a boon to him, for Miss Davidson, the daughter of one of the local gentry, had long since caught his eye, and the living gave him the means to make his offer and marry her. Miss Davidson's mother was not entirely pleased by this, for she had held out hopes that Mr. Calvert had a particular regard for her daughter. She was wrong, however: Mr. Calvert remained a bachelor his entire life, finally ending all speculation as to his intent by letting it be known that Kedmere would go to his nephew, a young man who immediately took his place in the hopes of many mothers.

Little Elizabeth remained slow to trust, and this, combined with her shy nature, made her path to matrimony a longer one. Yet her heart was formed for love, provided someone could reach it, and when young Mr. Calvert first came from Eton to visit his uncle, it was not long before the young man's gentle, quiet nature had claimed Miss Darcy's attention. As to whether the young man returned her affections, well, it is nearly impossible for a young gentleman to remain impervious to the esteem – gradually made known to him even through her quiet reserve – of a pretty young woman with fine, dark eyes, a clever mind, and fifty thousand pounds. It took him some time to do so, but he came to understand that among his many suitors, she was the one who was genuine, the one whose affections were true and not forced upon her by her parents. From the moment of this revelation, he sought to spend as much time as he could with his shy friend, and in this time, the many good qualities of the young lady went to work on his heart.

His uncle recalled the scandal of her birth better than most, but he had stood by the Darcys then and he stood by them now, so when his nephew began asking Miss Darcy for second dances at neighbourhood balls, he saw no reason to discourage him. Some months later, Mr. Edward Calvert made his dearest friend an offer of marriage.