Though, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet did not appreciate propriety as much as the Darcys and Bingleys did. It quite often showed, as Darcy had such an astute way of pointing out.
"Jane!" Mrs. Bennet announced happily, when everyone was settled. "Come, let us see how far along you are!" Each day was a crow of this familiar song, as far as Darcy was concerned. He had endured a very long, terribly unpleasant conversation with Elizabeth regarding his failures in leaving William with his grandmother while he joined them to find Jane. Darcy, most pointedly, did not remind Elizabeth (his most dear, darling pearl) that were it not for him, things might be very, very awry.
Jane, the poor thing, looked exhausted. Charles had inquired as to why his wife was so wan the other night over glasses of port and Darcy had informed him that it was a natural step in the progression of a woman with child.
Elizabeth herself had not risen from bed for days during the early weeks.
He had assured his closest friend that Jane would feel much improved in the weeks to come and had hinted at the revival of spirits that most pregnant women experienced in the midst of their expectancy. That had seemed to lift Charles' spirits and he heard no more complaining from the man.
Jane consented to her mother's close scrutiny while Darcy and Elizabeth quickly escaped from the room to have their own private conversation in the hallway, punctuated by soft kisses (as they were hidden in the alcove and could not be seen). He clasped her hands tightly and smiled warmly.
His love for her had much improved over the course of the past several weeks when he had realized that what had happened to Jane might have happened to Elizabeth and though he was sure it was simply his paranoid mind at work, it made him all the more grateful for every additional moment with his wife.
"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth observed, a wicked tone in her voice. "Whatever do you have in mind for this alcove?"
"I assure you, only the most proper of things," he replied, much amused by the implication. He did have news, in the most serious of lights, and wished to express it to his wife first and foremost before everyone else heard of the news. "The post came in this morning with an interesting item."
"Oh?" Elizabeth prodded, and though she appeared to be waiting patiently for his news, her thumb was rubbing gentle circles upon his wrist, much in the way he had expressed to liking.
"It appears that Mrs. Brown has been found guilty," he remarked, a settled smile on his face. "The authorities have found her and charged her with the crimes of the sternest degree."
"And what of Mr. Townsend?" Elizabeth hurried to ask. "What of him?"
"He has disappeared," Darcy remarked, resting his hand upon the small of her back. "This does mean that we may live in relative safety." And it also meant that his worries for the safety of both his family, the Bingleys, and the Bennets could not be quieted. "Lizzy, I am sure he will be found."
"And found guilty," Elizabeth swiftly remarked, vitriol in her voice. "That man is nothing but a crude example of the whole…"
"Elizabeth, my dear," he said, stern and patient, "I beg of you to not insult the entirety of my sex when I am standing right here."
"Do not worry so," she whispered, rather impishly. "You were to be an example of your gender."
"Very good, then," he said, his mood much improved. Though he did not wish to move from their comfortable position and privacy, he could overhear Mr. Bennet staring in with poor Charles regarding the heir and what he was to be named, all the while Mrs. Bennet lectured Jane on the necessities of a safe confinement.
"My poor sister," Elizabeth remarked, for she could clearly hear every word for herself. "I suspect her calm demeanor will not last so very long if Mama does continue at this game."
Darcy leaned in for a lingering kiss, eternally grateful for his wife and her wit, her charm, and her calmness of mind. "Perhaps we might rescue them?"
"Perhaps," she agreed, mocking his tone. She took his hand and led him back into the room. "Mama!" she remarked loudly, her voice interrupting all previous conversation. "Papa! Darcy has good news. Don't you, Mr. Darcy?" she inquired politely, using proper names for such a proper occasion with such good news.
She made her way to Jane's side and Darcy watched his wife the whole duration of his announcement, watching the way Elizabeth embraced her sister with such love and relief.
He was beginning to understand home and family, just the slightest bit more now, helped by his wife.
It was nearly eight months and a half to be precise, but it was upon that day that young William Darcy, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy and her husband traveled to the Bingleys estate once more. The young boy was now excitedly in the process of learning as many words as he could, babbling them out with such speed and dedication to the process of learning that both Elizabeth and Darcy could be nothing but wholly proud.
Jane delivered a healthy child, a little girl whom they named Charlotte (after much encouragement from Elizabeth). Though Jane confessed many years later that she had not rested comfortably since the kidnapping, she admitted that the day that she gave birth, she felt as though everything would change for the better.
"Congratulations," Elizabeth remarked, when she finally had her sister and her niece all to herself and all meddling family members and husbands had been put into the hall.
Jane gently rocked the tiny newborn in her arms, peering upon her with such wonder and amazement. "Thank you," she whispered, as though terrified to wake up Charlotte. "Oh! She is so beautiful."
"The spitting image of you, you know," Elizabeth observed. "Perhaps a bit of her father in her mouth and eyes, but her demeanor is all of you." She smiled wickedly. "She shall have to beat away the boys as she grows, just as you had them flocking to your skirts."
"Do not be so silly, Lizzy," Jane chastised.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, wondering if ever her sister would accept a compliment for what it was.
"She's beautiful," Jane repeated softly, staring down at her child in awe.
Elizabeth could not be prouder than she was at that moment. She leaned in, quite mischievous as she wrapped a loving arm about her sister. "Good," she praised. "Because quite soon, you're going to be an Aunt again, so I am very glad you appear to enjoy babies."
Jane turned quickly, her eyes alight with wonder. "Does Darcy know?"
"Not yet. I did want to tell you first," Elizabeth admitted, beaming widely as she let out an excited laugh. "Perhaps a girl, to rival the beauty of yours, though mine shall never come close and I will simply have to settle for her to have the wit of her mother and the quizzical brow of her father," she teased.
"Lizzy," Jane chastised, but did giggle herself. The movements gently roused Charlotte and Elizabeth eased away from the bed to let her sister and her niece have a moment of solitude together, the very first in a long line of them.
Elizabeth lingered in the doorway to watch her sister.
There were no further worries of finance, no worries of safety, and she was happy in such a way that it was visible, even. It was more than Elizabeth could ever ask for and she was content to say it. She closed the door behind her and made her way to find her husband and tell him the encouraging news.
With a little luck, Elizabeth though, her own pregnancy would be just slightly less turbulent than Jane's.
But then, all good things came with a price.
THE END