A/N: I put a ~Finis~ on the first draft of the last chapter intending it to be the end, but then thought it might be a bit too stingy. Here's one more, then I think there are 3-4 more in Green and maybe an Epilogue if I'm feeling ambitious.

[Update – Green exploded after this, so there are actually a dozen more.]

Wade


RED

Fitzwilliam Darcy found himself in the middle of the very best dream of his life. it had everything good that a dream could possibly have. He was warm and snug in a comfortable bed. He even had his long‑lost wife curled up in front of him, where any man of sense and education should have enticed her to be five years earlier. The sheets and blankets were crisp and clean. The air in the room smelled fresh due to the open window. All was right in the world of his dreams.

To top it all off, just when his dream‑self started the slow exit from slumber, and was in the position where he thought he might be able to distinguish dream from reality, his favorite dog, an English Setter named Beatrice, snuck into his bedchamber to climb on top of him – again. Beatrice had been doing so for years, and even though she was getting old enough to have to work at getting up to his bed, it was still his favorite way to wake up.

With a smile at how wonderful the dream was, he gradually opened his eyes. Long experience told him that the next step was a very slobbery kiss from Beatrice, so it would not be an overstatement to say he felt slightly surprised when Beatrice forewent the usual face bath and instead said, "Misser Dardy – Missssser Darrrdddy – Miiiissseeerrrr Daaaarrrrdddddyyyyy."

With a start his eyes snapped open instantly, but then he immediately fell into a big smile. "Good morning to you, Miss Miriam."

"I Miss Hervey. Am hungry."

Darcy chuckled, one more piece of the puzzle verified, so he said, "I stand corrected, Miss Hervey, and I believe we can take care of that rumble in your tummy quite soon."

Miriam laughed. "Is all right. You call me Miriam."

A bow seemed out of the question, so he said, "It will be my honor and privilege, Miriam."

His grin faded when he heard a loud whisper. "Miriam – Miriam – Are you in there? You know you are not supposed to wake up Auntie."

Darcy felt his wife, who appeared to be entirely corporeal and not a dream, but she was not quite awake yet, so he thought he had better answer before he embarrassed the poor woman. "She is here, Mrs. Hervey. She is no bother at all."

Dead silence reigned for a moment. Darcy thought he should answer, but his wife took care of the chore. "Be easy, Molly. Much to our mutual surprise, my husband and I have worked out all our differences. All is well. In fact, all is very much better than well. All is perfect."

Darcy heard what sounded like a scoff, followed by. "About time!"

As much as Darcy thought he would like Mrs. Hervey quite a lot, once she quit leaving the room every time he entered, it might be best if he met her on terms where they were both at least dressed, so he said, "As my wife says, all is well, madam. It is more than well. I am greatly in your debt, and I hope one day to repay a hundredth part of it."

She laughed, which surprised him. "I was the lowest scullery maid in Pemberley five years ago, Mr. Darcy, and that was a promotion from the state I was in when I met Amanda. Now I am a part owner of a robust business, married to the best man in the kingdom, no offense, and have the most impudent daughter in Edinburgh. You owe me nothing."

He laughed. "Perhaps we may have a stubbornness contest later, but for the moment, please just accept my gratitude."

He looked down to see Elizabeth looking at him intently, apparently happy enough for him to take the lead in the discussion, so he reached down and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, then carefully set Miriam down on the floor, and whispered. "You should probably go to your mother, Miriam."

"Mama!" she screamed, then took off across the room like a shot. She even managed to make it around the corner to her mother without bouncing off any furniture – well, hardly any furniture anyway.

Darcy heard her screaming and laughing as Mrs. Hervey apparently lifted her up, and then the mother said, "Breakfast is in an hour."

Amanda laughed. "Thank you, Molly."


The smell of bacon, eggs porridge, honey, tea, and coffee wafted out of the dining room as the happy couple entered precisely an hour later – almost precisely. Darcy found he had to physically restrain himself from touching his wife, but since she seemed inclined to keep herself withing half a foot of him all the way, it did not cause any inconvenience.

He saw a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties sitting at the table playing a clapping game with Miriam, and the child's mother carrying a pot of coffee next to another woman dressed as a cook or maid carrying a plate of fried eggs. The other victuals were already laid out neatly on the table, and there were places for himself and Elizabeth/Amanda, the Herveys, and another three plates.

Elizabeth said, "The last setting is for the cook. We are not formal here, and she eats with us when the mood strikes her."

Darcy did not ask about the last two, thinking he would find out when his wife wanted him to know.

The young man stood up, and Elizabeth introduced them formally. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, these are my oldest friends and companions, Noah and Molly Hervey. I imagine you have worked out that they were the two I absconded with from Pemberley all those years ago."

Darcy bowed. "Mr. Hervey. Mrs. Hervey. As I briefly mentioned earlier, I consider myself greatly in your debt. You cared for my wife when I could not," then he paused a moment searching for the exact words, then finally said, "or worse yet, would not. I can never repay your kindness, but I will make an effort, and you should know that anything within my power that I can do to assist you will be done."

"And me, sir?" he heard from a new voice who had apparently just entered the room and looked over to see none other than Noah Baker looking at him intently.

He walked over to bow to Mr. Baker and give the same reassurances, but before he could cover the half‑dozen yards to the newcomer he heard. "Why, Mr. Darcy! Fancy meeting you here."

The greeting came from someone he had known reasonably well at one time, and he saw the former Caroline Bingley walk up to Baker, with a child slightly younger than Miriam on her hip. She looked calm and collected, as did Baker, but Darcy thought it best to reassure everyone.

"Mrs. Baker, I presume?"

She curtsied. "Yes, and this is Margaret."

The child looked at him curiously, but did not seem inclined to speak, so Darcy continued, "Mr. Baker – Mrs. Baker – Margaret – As I was just saying, you need fear nothing from me except that I will probably be tediously repetitious in my praise and thanks. I will assert that you did what needed to be done at the time. I will not begrudge any of your actions – only my own."

He found Elizabeth had walked up beside him, and she took his arm, so all three couples were standing with the wife holding the husband's arm, but whether that was to offer comfort or prevent any funny ideas about fisticuffs was anybody's guess.

She said, "Fitzwilliam, I believe that I may speak for all when I say that forgiveness, in every direction is all that is required. You and I were hurt by the actions of the past. All my friends have been placed in extremely awkward positions. It is unfortunate, but it is in the past."

Surprisingly, Caroline said, "Mr. Darcy – as Amanda says, we all can use some forgiveness. If she is willing to forgive you your trespasses, and you forgive us ours, then we will all get along splendidly."

"I am touched by your generosity, since it was my intransigence that started all the pain in the first place."

Baker said, "That is true, Mr. Darcy, but think of it this way. We are, all of us much better off than we were five years ago, and in fact, much better off than we would have been absent your generally lunkheadedness. We have a thriving business, so we are all much better off materially. The three of us have all found wives about ten times prettier and a dozen times smarter than we deserve. We have two healthy children between us, and more cannot be long in coming."

Darcy heard Amanda squeeze his arm, and he thought he could feel a secret smile just for him. Perhaps he was imagining it, but if that was the case, he would take it.

Mr. Hervey said, "We have a good family here, Mr. Darcy. We have two Noahs, so I think we have withstood the flood quite well."

Everyone laughed, and Molly said, "The people with any sense are going to eat this meal while it is still hot. You men can join us if you like."

With a laugh, everyone sat down and tucked in. Amanda and Darcy had not eaten since the previous midday, so they were quite ravenous. Margaret and Miriam managed to get at least half their porridge down their throats, which was considered better than average, and the adults talked about this and that, where they had been and what they had done since the last time they were together. It was the best meal of Darcy's life.


When nobody could eat another bite, everyone stacked their dishes on a wheeled cart, and the cook wheeled it towards the kitchen at the same time as a young woman hired as nursemaid during the mornings came in for the children. The remaining six adults moved to an adjacent sitting room where tea was served by Mrs. Darcy/Price.

During the meal, all the conversation had centered around the recent travel, both with the Bakers and the Herveys, as well as the recent purchases, upcoming purchases, and the like. There was even a minor discussion about the sales for the month, but without the ledgers it was not had with any depth.

Once everyone was settled in, Darcy felt he had to say his piece. "Once again, I must reiterate that I am so grateful that you were such good partners to Elizabeth all these years, and –"

He did not quite know how to say what he had to say without causing offense. He was trying to work it out when Mr. Baker took the lead.

"Mr. Darcy, may I recommend we commence with a candid conversation. We do not mince words in our little group here, nor do we shield our wives, nor do they shield us, from anything – ever."

"Both admirable and sensible procedures, Mr. Baker. I applaud them and will join the general scheme myself."

Baker nodded. "We are in a bit of a – special situation, I believe. There are things that must remain private for decades, if not forever, with real consequences for failure or disclosure."

Darcy appreciated the candor. "Let me speculate, Mr. Baker. You almost certainly have contingency plans that could have been activated if I ever discovered the situation, and I would wager you still do."

Baker nodded slowly. "Go on."

"I have no idea what they are, and I have no need to know. If I were you, I would have some sort of legal recourse to insure you were not prosecutable for anything that may or may not have happened back then."

"Such as?"

"The more obvious would be money squirreled away here and there, inside and outside England. Probably pre‑purchased tickets to somewhere outside of English Law. Perhaps some forged or purchased identity papers, clothing hidden away along the route. Some leverage you could use in an emergency to keep me in line. Am I on the right track?"

Baker just nodded, so Darcy continued.

"Those are the obvious things. A man like you no doubt has favors owed from powerful people in the courts. I also suspect there was a fair amount of ambiguity in how you went about reporting things. Beyond that, I would presume you thought of at least three things I have not."

Baker nodded. "That is correct, sir."

Darcy ran his hand through his hair. "You all have ample reason to distrust me, and none to trust me, but –"

He found himself cut off by Mrs. Baker. "Please, stop there, Mr. Darcy. I will be the very first to admit that you treated your wife horribly, your family was worse, her family even worse, and mine was not noticeably better –"

Darcy nodded. "You will get no argument from me, Mrs. Baker."

She nodded and made sure he was paying rapt attention. "Having said that, I have known you longer than anyone here, and my brother knew you even longer. I have never had any indication that you were dishonorable – never. If you give me your word, I will accept it, but –"

Darcy said, "You need not say the 'but' explicitly, Mrs. Baker. You are fierce in your defense, and I know what can be done with rumors and inuendo. You have as much of a hold over me as I have over all you. Something as simple as telling the absolute full and unvarnished truth to one of the patronesses of Almacs would taint the Darcy name for a generation or two."

Caroline smiled. "We understand each other, sir. May we just say that everyone in this room could make life miserable for everyone else, but none of us ever will, no matter the provocation. We are all engaged in a sort of mutual defense pact."

Amanda laughed. "Too many military history books, Caroline."

The women laughed, and Darcy was happy to see the easy comradery. He curiously asked, "Forgive me if I speculate beyond the remit, Mrs. Baker, but I would think that you have found your calling."

She blushed, looked at her husband and took his hand. "Yes, I have. I am so glad I never managed to catch you back in Hertfordshire. It would have been the end of my soul."

Nobody knew exactly how to answer that, so Molly reached her hand into the center of the table. "Mutual defense! We are more like a family than anything else now. Will you join us, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy put his hand in on top of hers, and it was followed by everyone else's, saying, "Family," like a toast.

Everyone leaned back, and some scraping of chairs and reshuffling of people on sofas resulted in all three couples sitting as close to their spouses as possible, and not entirely according to the rules of propriety, each taking hands or arms, and there was a bit of kissing of hands that may or may not have taken place.

After a few moments of contented silence, Amanda took a deep breath, and looked around the room.

She said, "I do hate to be macabre, but I believe we have to kill Amanda."

Everyone sucked in a deep breath, so she continued, "I know – I know – We do not actually have to kill her dead-dead. We just need to remove her from England. Perhaps she could go to America, marry a frontiersman, conquer the West or something."

Everyone had a good laugh at that, since it was clear Amanda Price could not actually exist without a good bookshop within walking distance, and that hardly seemed an accommodation the rugged west was likely to provide.

Caroline said, "It all makes sense, in a way. If you do not restore Elizabeth Darcy, you would be forever cut off from your sisters, whether they deserve to be contacted again or not, which is bad; or your parents, which I assume you can take or leave. It is one thing to voluntarily separate yourself, but quite another to forever remove the possibility of reconciliation. I can tell you from experience …"

Everyone gave her their full attention, unwilling to interrupt.

With a sigh, she continued, "… that no matter how angry you might get with your family, and no matter how much they may or may not deserve that anger – it is better to have at least the chance to make things, if not right, at least less wrong. Amanda Price cannot do that. Elizabeth Darcy can. She has the power of choice."

Darcy said, "I would concur. It is difficult but possible to explain the years apart. We can just make up five different far‑fetched stories, and then tell each one to a prolific gossip or two. They will cancel each other out."

Elizabeth said, "Even if not, the penalty for a bad reputation would amount to being cut off from the ton in London. I should as likely consider that a benefit as a drawback."

Everyone laughed, but nobody contradicted her. After some time in the wider world, none of them thought the artificial world of puffed up dandies and cutthroat ladies that made up London society would be much of a loss. Of course, it was not an issue for two of the couples, since they would never be admitted anyway, unless Darcy got clever somehow. It was still at least fifteen years before any of them would have to worry about it with the next generation, and Elizabeth thought she could forego society entirely.

Darcy said, "We have much to discuss, but may I suggest the outline of a plan?"

Everyone nodded, so he continued, "As I understand it, all of you have shares in this store. I propose we form some sort of venture between the three families. I mentioned a new structure called a 'corporation' that the Americans are mad for. It is a way to have an entity with limited liability that can have multiple owners. People buy and sell shares in them, so you are not locked together at the hip forever. The corporation can also borrow money, enter agreements and the like. We could form one that could own the store, but better would be to make one that is far more ambitious."

Everyone looked confused, so Darcy said, "Elizabeth and I talked about some ideas last night. The world is changing, and we want to be the leaders of the new world, not the last rats on the sinking ship of the old. I propose we combine our forces. We are all smart, resilient, and trustworthy. We have a good collection of skills, so let us form a venture that does something new. I have no idea what it might be. Some say steam will revolutionize the world. It may be that, or new machines, or trade routes, or, well, just about anything. Let us pick something and do it. Between my money and your brains, we will have a venture that can be available for all our descendants, not just the first sons. All of our children and grandchildren will have the chance to be leaders, which they may take or leave according to their own ambitions."

Everyone looked a bit stunned. To have a scion of one of the oldest and richest families in England proposing he seriously and voluntarily enter into trade seemed impossible, but it made perfect logical sense if they were all willing to forego high society, or more likely, bend high society to their will.

Elizabeth said, "What about if we use this idea of the Americas, somehow. We may even want to invest there, though I have no idea if that idea is good, bad, or indifferent. Suppose I was rescued by a clipper ship and stuck in America or the Indies. The timing will not make any sense, but we can finesse that. If Fitzwilliam and I leave for America straightaway, and he 'rescues' me there, it might explain everything. Maybe I have Typhus. It would have been a possibility if we had not delayed our wedding night by five years, no?"

Darcy nodded. "The six months before you left would not make sense, but we can work something out."

Elizabeth leaned forward. "Remember, the big lie is easier to believe than the small one. As much as I abhor deception, I have been practicing it for a long time, and for my family, I will do what needs to be done.

Everyone said, "Hear, hear!" in apparent agreement.

Amanda and Molly went to a sideboard, poured six small glasses of port (naturally), and returned to the group to toast the new scheme.

As they held their glasses aloft, Noah Hervey got a mischievous gleam in his eye. He held his glass aloft and proclaimed. "Amanda is dead. Long live Elizabeth."

Everyone laughed a hearty sound, clinked glasses together, toasted their success, cleared the table, got out the ledgers and got to work.


Many hours later, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy sat alone at last, in her sitting room, curled up on a sofa (with the door locked this time), speaking of what had come before and what would come after.

Elizabeth said, "Do you know, Fitzwilliam, that today is six years to the day from the first time I saw you."

He had been slightly dozing, so her perked up curiously. "Where was that?"

"You and Mr. Bingley were touring Netherfield. You raced across a field. You may have been on Omega – I cannot remember. I believe he beat you."

Darcy laughed. "You have just proven your memory loss theory. There was never a day, nor will there ever be a day, when Bingley bests me!"

She chuckled. "Who would have guessed back then that we might have a six-week courtship, a three-week betrothal, and a five‑year wedding afternoon."

"Who indeed?"

She sighed. "When you left me in Hatfield, I called out to you, but you did not hear me. I yelled, "Fair Warning!" at the top of my lungs. I was going to threaten you with what I ultimately did. I always wondered if you would have listened."

Darcy looked thoughtful. "As pathetic as it sounds, I doubt I would have," he said with a frown.

She reached over, took firm hold of his hand. "I disagree. I was frightfully angry at the time. I know what is in your heart and your character Fitzwilliam Darcy. I believe you would have mended your ways forthwith. We would not have been happy in a day or a month, or maybe even a year; but I do believe our falling in love was inevitable."

He took advantage of his wife's nearness to reach over and kiss her. "You offer more credit than I am due, but I will take it. No man can imagine not falling in love with you, given half a chance."

She laughed, returned his kisses, and they fell asleep in each other's arms, content in their mutual love and the felicity for the future.

Naturally, they woke up several hours later feeling like they had been run over by a herd of cattle, but they managed to retire to bed for a good night's sleep, accompanied by the most beautiful (but dog-free) dreams.

For the rest of their lives, through children and grandchildren; family and friends; land and industry; trials and triumphs; good times and bad; sickness and health (but hopefully sans memory loss); obedience and obstinacy; youth and old age; they would remember that day in Edinburgh when the most blatantly incorrect scientist for a dozen generations at least had brought them together at long last, in love and happiness, til death us do part.

~~ Finis ~~