I doubt that many people are eagerly anticipating the epilogue I promised so long ago. But promise I did. Here are a few glimpses of ODC in later years. Enjoy!
(JLC, 12/28/2023)
~~PoR~~
Five years later…
"It is most likely considered terribly unfashionable, but I do so love a good evening rain." Elizabeth inhaled deeply as she stood next to the open window of the sitting room and looked out across Stillmeadow at the dusky sky made even darker by the rain. "Everything is so wonderfully fragrant."
"Mama, our house is made of flowers. Always smells." Two-year-old Patrick Darcy spoke this sleepy truth from his place on the sofa, his head resting on his father's leg as he curled up beside William.
"Perhaps we should say sweet-smelling rather than just smells," William whispered to his son as he tucked the boy's favorite blanket closer around him and rested a hand on his small shoulder to sooth him back into slumber.
"Our house always smells, my word, what will the boy say next? While I appreciate Patrick's unflinching honesty, we shall have to work on how he articulates it." Elizabeth's gaze lingered on the cozy scene presented by her husband and son.
"I am afraid I cannot interpret the look currently upon your face, my love. Should I be worried?" William asked.
"Not at all, but it seems my place beside you has been usurped once again." William raised his free arm in invitation. Elizabeth lowered the window, leaving it open a few inches to allow the sound of the rain to reach inside. "I prefer the left, but the right side will do just as well." She sat and guided his arm around to embrace her.
"Your expression was not one of amusement alone."
"Amusement was a part of it. It was also contentment - a rainy evening, the scent of lavender in the air, our little family snug in here. Patrick isn't too cold, is he?
"Not at all, he is quite comfortable. He always gets a bit anxious the night before I leave for London, but if the weather continues it will be too wet to travel."
"You sound as if you wish for that to occur."
"I confess I always wish for an excuse not to go to London, or in fact any place that requires I leave you for any great length of time. There is no place I would rather be than here with you and Patrick."
"Prettily said, Mr. Darcy. We shall all bear this separation more happily than usual with the knowledge that it will result in fewer absences in the future. However, you may say if you are having second thoughts. I am certain Richard will understand."
"He would, but I am not having second thoughts. None at all. It is the right course of action for our family and for Richard. His harebrained ideas will take Moss & Co. further than I thought possible. He earned this."
It had started with a series of jokes and jests on Richard's part, a way of needling his cousin during his infrequent letters and visits. You should publish this…, you should publish that…, each idea wilder than the last. William eventually realized some of those wild ideas had some merit, a great deal of merit. When an injury precipitated his cousin's return to civilian life, the colonel found himself at loose ends.
Once the subject was broached in earnest, Richard proved to have a great many thoughts on how to open markets, cultivating original works as opposed to republishing older books or translations, employing returned soldiers in Darcy's various ventures, and more. The results far exceeded their expectations. Profits over the last few years grew dramatically as their market expanded.
This visit to London would witness the Earl of Matlock's youngest son becoming a full-fledged man of trade – partial owner and managing partner in a publishing company. William enjoyed the publishing business, but his time was increasingly taken with estate management. Stillmeadow was now his priority. Seeing to the prosperity of his home, family, and tenants was more than enough to fill his days. Of course, Pemberley was also among his concerns. Every year, the young family spent two months in Derbyshire as William learned more about the estate and took a greater role in its management.
"You must not mind me; I am just a bit unsettled. It seems we are all entering new phases of life," William added.
"But that is a good thing. It is rare that we pass a season without a wedding or christening in the family these last few years.
"Do not remind me. I take no joy in Ana's engagement. She is far too young."
"That is just what I expect a protective older brother to say. If you recall, you did not find eighteen so young when we married. You just do not like the idea of her being so far away."
"I recall my new wife coming to me overwhelmed at the thought of being mistress of an estate at such a tender age."
"That was merely because I gave my mother's words too much weight. Her voice frequently echoed in head telling me I was not good enough. Ana had a very different upbringing. And considering the added tutelage of Lady Catherine, I imagine Ana is well prepared to manage St. James Palace."
"That is true. Though I do not know if my aunt's voice echoing through one's head would be deemed any better."
"It is all about intent, my dear. Luckily, my mother's intent has shifted, and that voice quieted. Is it not amazing that the greater distance between us has brought us closer than we ever were before?"
"I do wonder at how Ana's relationship with my mother will alter with distance. Of all the men in England she has to marry a man with an estate in Durham. It is ridiculous."
"What exactly is ridiculous? That she fell in love or Durham itself."
"I can perfectly understand someone falling in love with her. She has much to recommend her, but how can she love a man who will take her so far away from her home and family? Durham, ha! The farming is abysmal, and the land is pocked by mining endeavors."
"How fortunate that Mr. Leland's family is engaged in shipbuilding then," Elizabeth replied.
"It smells like fish too," William grumbled with a hint of petulance.
Elizabeth could not help but laugh. "It does not, well, maybe in some places, but I do not believe that matters to Ana. We will all miss her, but she must be allowed to live her life as she pleases." She stroked the arm that was wrapped around her, trying to give him comfort. "But perhaps we should take care that our own daughter should marry into a family within the county."
"Elizabeth! Are you—"
"William, no. You must curb your anticipation. I am simply speculating about what the future may hold. I have no announcement to make at this time." The statement had the air of being oft repeated. "Just as my food choices are also not indicative of an impending event."
"In my defense, I have heard that unusual cravings may be a sign that a woman is with child."
"Asking the cook to add fennel to a pork dish is not unusual."
"But we have never had it so in the past."
"This year's harvest was particularly robust. Mrs. Stockdale and I have been making the most of it. And I was suddenly sensitive to your tobacco because whatever new blend Charles gave you truly is one of the most malodorous substances I have had the misfortune to smell."
"So you have said. However, I am not alone in wishing Patrick had a sibling, am I?"
"Sister, please," Patrick murmured without opening his eyes.
"Thank you, Patrick. You may go back to sleep."
~~PoR~~
And ten years after that…
"…And your papa was determined to win. He climbed and climbed, much higher than James and me, despite being younger. He was so nimble and quick. He got sooo high that the sun charred his hair turning it dark. That is why it is so much darker than your aunt Ana's. But alas, while he is excellent at climbing up, his skill does not extend to climbing down. He hit more than a few branches on his way down. That is probably why he is so ugly."
Six-year-old Anthea* Darcy stomped up to Richard Fitzwilliam and said very solemnly, "My papa is very handsome. The handsomest in the world."
"Even handsomer than me, little one?" Richard asked. He was sitting on a blanket in the grass, weaving a crown of flowers for the child, who was secretly his favorite.
'Uncle' Richard was also a favorite of hers, so she did not wish to hurt his feelings. She glanced at her father then back to Richard. "You are my handsomest uncle; Papa is my handsomest papa."
"Ahem, where am I on the scale of handsomest uncles?" Geoffrey Smithson, Mary's husband, asked.
"I say, Richard is but a cousin, and I will allow he might be your handsomest cousin, but he should not take precedent over the rest of your uncles." Mr. Bingley said.
"Where does that leave us cousins?" James Fitzwilliam asked, motioning to himself and Julian Neeley.
Anthea pursed her mouth and narrowed her eyes in deep thought. With a serious expression, she took Richard's face in her hands and looked straight into his eyes. "You are my most very favorite and handsomest uncle named Richard."
"Very diplomatic my little flower goddess," Richard said as he placed the crown on her head. She then went around to various uncles and cousins until each had been identified as the handsomest uncle or cousin bearing that particular name.
"I am glad I do not have so many grandpapas," she said with a weary sigh.
"But if you had to choose it would be me, would it not Thea?" Mr. Bennet asked as his granddaughter leaned against him in exhaustion.
"Bad form, Bennet. I have time to make up for." Stephen Smithson said as Lady Anne looked on with amusement.
Four years before, George Darcy passed away quietly in his sleep. Since then, the younger Darcy family had split their time between Pemberley, Stillmeadow, and London. On this July day, the family had gathered for an early celebration of William and Elizabeth's fifteen anniversary. Everyone was present except for Mrs. Bennet and Lydia, who remained at home awaiting the next Bennet grandchild.
"Does it feel any different to be back at Pemberley as Lady Anne Smithson?" Elizabeth asked Lady Anne when they had a moment alone. After Mr. Darcy's death, his wife had behaved as a good society widow should, but once out of mourning she happily accepted Mr. Smithson's invitations – a walk in the park, the opera, visiting a museum exhibit – with great delight. They enjoyed a six-month courtship followed by a brief engagement and had been married for almost two years. However, this was Lady Anne's first time back since that happy event.
"It does feel different, but I do not know if it is that I have returned as a Smithson or that the demons that lived here have been exorcised. I am glad William gets to enjoy Pemberley finally, considering he lost so much of what he was due as a Darcy. It truly is a wonderful place." They both watched as William reclined on the grass and sat patiently as his youngest son Matthew played with his hair, checking to see if it was, in fact, charred.
"It is, and I do believe William has found peace here, finally. We have spent an alarming amount of money refurbishing the house and making changes on the grounds so there is little to remind him of what he experienced when he was a child."
"Gutting George's study and turning it into another sunroom was inspired. I find myself quite able to enjoy the room with no feelings of discomfort. You brought light to the darkest place in this house."
"Of course, William thinks it only fitting that it is such a space of light and warmth, when one considers he burned much of what was once in the room."
"You did not tell me that!"
"He does not speak of it much, but he will not mind me telling you. It was quite the production, very symbolic. Everything was moved out to a fallow field and just as William threw the match onto the pile he quoted Marcus Aurelius, 'The blazing fire makes flames and brightness out of everything thrown into it'. I believe other Roman emperors were also referenced. He swears he did not dance around the fire, but I shall not be persuaded otherwise. Merely making a quick circuit around the fire to ensure it was well contained is the story he tells. I believe he let out whoop as well. He said it was a manly roar of triumph at creating such a robust fire," Elizabeth laughed fondly. "But I cannot make sport of it though, it was as beneficial as it was necessary. Even though he was at greater ease with his father during those last few years, he needed that final physical act to be truly free from the past. Of all the burdens now upon him, what he experienced here during his childhood is not among them."
"Generations of Darcys are no doubt rolling in their graves at the thought of so many treasures consumed by the flames. And I could not be happier."
"Well, the most valuable of items had a different fate, for William is William after all. He removed every item that he found offensive or too laden with memories and sold what he could. He burned the rest. He gave the money to George Wickham's mother." Elizabeth paused to gauge Lady Anne's reaction.
"He informed her of her parentage, then?"
"His own sense of justice demanded that he do so. Just as it demanded that he purchase a home for her and provide a generous annuity for the rest of her life. Mrs. Wickham is well provided for now."
"She had no fault in any of this. I hope she is at peace as well."
"She is very pragmatic and understanding – about the circumstances of her birth, Wickham's death, and everything in between. She was quite happy to accept what was offered and wished to leave Derbyshire. She is now happily residing in a townhouse in Bath."
"Good. I am glad to see so much good come to pass. For all of us."
~~Fin~~
*Please don't come at me for the name Anthea. In one of my other stories someone didn't like the middle name I gave Elizabeth, but it fit a Shakespearean naming scheme that was part of the story. This name also fits this story. Anthea means flower/flowery/blossom. What better name for a daughter of Stillmeadow? And it also honors the various Annes in William's life.
Snarky ETA: sigh I know Anthea is a character in BBC's Sherlock, but it is not a modern/20th century name. Another reason I chose the name is its connection to Greek mythology, a callback to William and Elizabeth's conversation about mythology early in the story. Anthea is an epithet of the Greek goddess Hera. But I guess this isn't a 'historically plausible naming choice".