Chapter 6

May, 1836

Pemberley, Derbyshire

All was ready. Elizabeth's belongings were packed away and ready to be transported to Kedmere Hall, save the last chest, which remained open in chance any final items had been forgotten. Beside it, Hazel the spaniel was curled up and sleeping – she, too, would be coming with her mistress. No dog could ever replace the beloved companionship of dear old Sandy during Elizabeth's formative years, but she adored Hazel just as well.

Elizabeth bent down and tousled the dog's head, then picked up the doll that had been laid down beside a battered old shawl atop the other items in the trunk. The doll was in equally poor shape, but Elizabeth would never have thought to be rid of either item. They were the objects of her childhood, and while she no longer required their comforts, still they remained beloved.

"Do you still have that?" asked papa. He had entered quietly, without her hearing him. It was one of the things Elizabeth loved about papa; he was quiet like her, even if he was not her real father. The understanding of that had stung more than anything else ever had in her life thus far. Were it up to her parents, Elizabeth was certain they would have waited until she was much older before informing her of the truth, but one of the favourite occupations of children is to snoop about their homes looking for secrets, and in so doing Elizabeth had found the transcript of her mother's trial. Her first reaction had been horror, over what poor mama had endured, but soon after that had come the realisation of what it likely meant for her. William had corroborated the information within the transcript – he could still recall the days they had lived in another home, with a man they had called stepfather and feared.

"I do." Elizabeth smiled to papa, running her thumb over one of the streaks of soot. "'Tis rather worse for wear, although I suppose it has been like that almost the whole time it has been in my possession. Nothing the maids did could ever get this soot out."

"You – you know that it is soot?"

"Of course, papa, from the fire."

"I was not sure if you remembered that. In truth, I had rather hoped you did not – it was a frightening time for you."

"It is my first memory," said Elizabeth. "But it is not a bad memory. I was frightened, yes, but then you came and rescued me."

"I still thank God every time I think of that night, that I was able to find you," papa said, his voice thick.

Elizabeth felt tears welling in her eyes. "It was much, for you to risk your life searching for a child that was not your own."

"Oh sweetling, I will tell you this as many times as I must: you are my daughter, in every way that matters to me."

"And I am grateful to you, every time that you say it." She extended her arms to him, seeking a hug, and was immediately obliged. "I love you so much, papa."

"And I you, my sweetling. You are leaving us today to start your own family, but never forget that you are loved deeply, by both of your parents," he said. "And do not doubt that we shall come to Kedmere to visit very often."

She smiled at this, blinking away her tears. "I will be very cross if you do not."

"You were never cross a day in your life, Elizabeth, but while your threat is ineffective, it is also not necessary." He kissed her forehead.

Elizabeth felt the pull of home strongly in that moment, felt a trembling in her belly at the idea of leaving Pemberley to start a different life. Yet she had been hoping for this life ever since she had fallen in love with her dearest Edward, and now it was to begin. She was consoled by the thought that her parents would surely keep their promise to visit often, and Edward had in turn promised that they should come to Pemberley frequently. Carriage travel made Eseld ill these days, now that her eyesight had begun to fail and she could not focus on the horizon as she had used to do. It was unthinkable that Elizabeth should go too long without seeing her grandmother – and so far as she was concerned, Eseld was her grandmother, just as she was papa's daughter. In their family, love mattered more than blood.

"Are you ready?" papa asked softly.

Elizabeth nodded.

"And are you happy?"

"I think more nervous than happy, now, to be wed in front of so many people – but I know that I will be happy. I love him so much, papa."

"I know, my sweetling. I would not have given my consent, otherwise. You deserve nothing less than the deepest love."

Gently, Elizabeth laid her doll back down in the trunk, and followed papa out to the waiting carriage.

Their side of the church was pleasingly full, Darcy thought as he walked down the aisle, his daughter on his arm. Here were the Gardiners, who had retired to Lambton after their eldest son had grown old enough to take over the family's extensive business holdings. Here were the Bingleys and their numerous brood of children and children-in-law. By now even little Jane, the eldest of their grandchildren, had been deemed mature enough to attend. Here were Mr. William Darcy and his lovely wife, Harriet, as well as the Astleys and Mr. Henry Darcy's wife, Isabella, whose beauty matched her name. Her husband, of course, awaited them at the front of the church. Here were the Earl and Countess of Sudbury, Viscount Ashbourne, and their other children; beside Viscount Ashbourne sat the delightful young lady he had made his viscountess, and a certain swell of her belly promised the potential of a Lord Foston, in some months. Here were the Duke and Duchess of Cambourne, Julia seated beside the Colbournes. And here, finally, was the elder Elizabeth, Eseld seated beside her, and Jory Charles beside Eseld. Darcy wished deeply that Jory could have been there for this day, and hoped that somehow, he was indeed still watching.

His wife was struggling mightily not to weep and not at all succeeding. Darcy knew they were tears of both happiness and sadness, that their little sweetling was finally grown up and leaving them. He avoided her gaze, well aware that he would follow her into weeping if he caught her eye. Miss Darcy – not long to hold that name – was given over to Mr. Edward Calvert, then Henry Darcy, grinning and winking at his sister, began the service that would see her wed.

Darcy went to sit beside his wife and took up her hand, clasping it tight in the hopes of giving her some comfort. He thanked God their daughter would be settled so near; they had been blessed in that, so far, although Jory Charles would likely prove the exception. His reaction to learning about his mother's history had been an early desire to make the law his profession, so he might help others just as Mr. Russell had helped mama all those years ago. He had come back from Eton for his sister's wedding, and at present he was whispering quietly into Eseld's ear, providing her with a description of what she could not see. Eseld was smiling as much as ever, and Darcy admired her for it. Even the loss of her sight had not affected her eternal optimism; she had friends and family to read to her, to look after her, to love her, and she revelled in her blessings rather than dwelling in her infirmities. Darcy prayed often that he and his wife could meet old age with the same grace.

Although he did not match the elder Elizabeth for weeping, Darcy did shed more than a few tears during the ceremony. Yet the rest of the congregation filled the church with jubilation, as the new Mrs. Calvert smiled to her husband and the two young lovers shyly kissed. Friends and family then rose, to leave the church; Susan helping Jory Charles direct Eseld back to the carriage. They all left quickly – eager to go back to Pemberley for a morning of celebration – save the Darcys, who remained standing at the front of the church. Darcy kissed his wife softly, gazing at her with all the love he felt in that moment. His hair had gone grey rapidly over the past few years, leaving him with a full silvery head that Elizabeth claimed she found just as becoming as what had preceded it. Hers was just beginning to be flecked with silver, but it was still her eyes Darcy adored most, those fine, dark eyes, more lustrous even than usual as she continued to struggle with her tears.

"'Tis less than eight miles, to Kedmere," Darcy said, reassuringly. "And she said she would be very cross if we did not come to visit very often."

"She has never been cross a day in her life."

"That is what I told her." He glanced down at her chest, and was surprised to see the little Derbyshire spar necklace he had bought her all those years ago. Brushing it with his fingers, he murmured, "That little old thing – goodness."

"Do not insult such a dear gift," she said. "For it is as dear to me as the spirit in which it was given. It seemed the right thing to wear today – perhaps I wanted Will with us, as well was William."

"They are both with you. Always. And they both love you." He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. "Shall we go and attempt to celebrate?"

"We shall, and we will be successful, I hope. I am truly happy for her, even as I feel the change deeply."

They went back to Pemberley with the others, and did find the cheer of their family an aid to keeping them from lamenting the loss of their daughter. It was a full house, with what had grown to be such a large family; they had needed all of the guest bedrooms, including the one Darcy had quietly ordered redecorated some years ago, at his wife's request.

As the revelry continued into the evening, eventually Darcy saw Elizabeth slip away, making her way upstairs. He knew well what she sought, the best possible comfort for such a time, and he followed after.

There in the nursery, already enjoying a snuggle with her grandmother, was little Margaret Eseld Darcy, a child that promised to have a temperament every bit as sweet as her aunt's. Their daughter Elizabeth held a special place in their hearts, but this little girl, the first of what they hoped would be many grandchildren, was already just as precious to them. They would watch her grow up at Pemberley just as they had watched their own children, they would buy her puppies and ponies and take her sailing on the lake. They would fill their leisure time in loving her and all that would follow.

Elizabeth looked up and smiled softly, her eyes still brimming with tears. "I still cannot believe we have three children married."

"It will be some time for the fourth, I think. Jory Charles still has many years of school ahead of him, and then he will need to establish himself in the law."

"That would be more of a consolation if he was not away at school so very much," said she. "But I shall not complain. I know we have been fortunate to have William's family settled here, and Henry and Elizabeth both an easy distance."

"I am glad she fell in love with Calvert's nephew. I would have been tempted to refuse any offers of marriage from young gentlemen who lived farther away."

This prompted a soft laugh from his wife.

"I should have no cause to repine at all, in truth," she said. "We have had so many happy years together as a family, and still many more to come, I hope."

"Have you been happy, my love?"

"You need not ask that question when you very well know the answer," she said, her eyes making a sudden, delightful shift to teasing. "You know very well you have kept your promise. I have been deeply loved and tremendously happy, and while I may lament my loss today, it does not mean that I am not still full of gratitude for what I gained back, all those years ago."

-END-

AN: Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and giving feedback! I so appreciate reading your reactions and your thoughts on the story. I know this one is very non-traditional and some of you ventured in with some trepidation, and I'm grateful that you were willing to give it a shot.

I will be working on edits based on the feedback and hope to publish this in early 2023. The story will remain up at least until the end of the year and I will post a warning at the beginning as I near removal.