I warn you all. This chapter looks better in my head than it does on my computer document.

Chapter 39

Lizzy won the debate against Mrs. Carter, on account of accommodations. But the Carters were to be welcome to calling any time of day. By the start of the next week, Mary met Dr. Reis' qualifications to return home. Though the fever did return a few days later, it never reached danger again. No doubt having sustenance aided her in the second battle. Free at last of infection, a very, very slow ride in the carriage was taken back to Grovsnor Square. It would be a few weeks before she'd be allowed to venture downstairs, but Dr. Reis recommended, for a daily regimen, that she start with turns around her room, some very slow-paced walking of the corridors upstairs, going nowhere near any stairs. Meals came regularly on trays. Any and all news flowed from the dining and drawing room up to her quarters, relayed by husband or family member. One topic in particular seized her full attention. She'd not given it any thought in ages.

Captain Carter, apprised now of all details, dropped the fatal news of the Starlight Circle. Lady Herncastle, on the day of their meeting downstairs, gave into demands. Mary's contract had been voided, and for her trouble, a sizable settlement was made to Mary, care of Mr. Spencer. Nothing to be called outrageous for its number, but it settled the bill with Dr. Reis' clinic, all previous visits, and with still some hundreds to spare. It met Mr. Spencer's demands on Mary's account. As far as the other ladies, many blows came down on her. After word spread of Mary's illness and coming back from death, brought to it by the terms of her contract, Mr. Spencer and Mr. Teal sparked outrage in every quarter, even members of the society beyond London. The threat of prosecution, as well as public circulation of the pamphlets, made her ladyship reasonable. She rallied the ladies and offered to remedy the situation by a renewal of contracts, under new terms, one preferably addressing the rights of the members. Over fifty members of the Starlight Circle, a number that had not been confirmed until after the fact. Some of them were honorary members. Of the fifty-some ladies, only ten chose to accept her offer of appeasement. The good majority of them made the decision to null the contract and part ways, including all the delegation in the Darcys' house. Those that chose to maintain their loyalty, pledged to it on some conditions of their own. Lady Herncastle, first and foremost, would no longer be head and sole controller of the society. Her authority would be shared among a board, made up of current and honorary members. It would be a revolution, radical and uncertain for those who chose to break ties with the old regime. However, in time, those that chose to go that way, including Miss Quinn, Miss Andrews, Mrs. Bowman, and others, did not fare too badly making their own engagements in London society. Miss Longsbury perhaps fared the best of the lot of them, invited to join a local orchestra: their first lady and violinist. Miss Longsbury and Miss Quinn, though not on the most intimate terms of friendship with Mary, dropped all past rivalries and came to be on good terms.

Mr. Cummings continued to call during the recovery. It was not until his second visit, to hear more news of Mary and her progress, when sympathetic necessity demanded he be told all. Miss Bennet was now Mrs. Carter. Lizzy never felt any dislike for him. For her sister's sake, she was most tactful and gentle in the blow. How it happened so quickly, to be married during illness, baffled and mortified him as much as her original refusal had done. Some days went by before he visited again. By the time Mary was able to walk down the stairs with assistance, he had come to call to finally speak for himself. Georgiana sat at the piano, while Mary had taken up with her book when he called.

"I'm sorry to have missed Dr. Carter," he admitted.

"He's had to go back to work. Duties at his own clinic," answered Mary.

"Your sister has told me. I am very glad to come and give you my congratulations in person."

"Thank you, Mr. Cummings."

"I also wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you, before the exhibition. That was a terrible thing to say to you, and when I was in the audience, saw you as we all did, I was utterly ashamed to have told you to endure longer."

"You couldn't have possibly known. I couldn't have known I would do myself great harm that night."

"Do tell me, are you well now? Recovering, at least?"

"I grow stronger by the day. I'm not allowed to go up and down stairs yet unaccompanied, but I'm in no pain."

"Thank heaven for that." Some awkwardness came with the silence, but instead of feeling it too much, Mary turned her attention, for a few minutes to Georgiana's playing. "Miss—Mrs. Carter, may I trouble to ask one thing? Do you intend to keep composing?"

"Yes. It's what I've always intended to do. Now that I've already had one published, the second and third may be easier to come by."

"My father wants to know if there is still a copy of the aria, the one you had nearly finished performing at the exhibition. You would not believe it," he chuckled. "Rumours have started over that piece you played. For days and evenings to come, while I was tortured waiting, every salon was talking about you, about the piece you played just as you collapsed. Everyone was intrigued with it, but horrified. And there was talk of one of the ushers discovering some mangled music backstage. It was unrecognizable. Nobody could confirm it for certain. I don't praise it. I don't ever want to live to see the likes of such incident again, but you unknowingly started a sensation just by fainting."

Mary laughed. "That sounds a little sensational, if you ask me."

"It's true. Of course, I'm better satisfied that Miss Sothern shall have no credit of it. Have you heard anymore of her?"

"She's left for the continent, broken her own contract with Lady Herncastle. A note was left, but nothing particular to me. If she ever encounters good company abroad, marries a good man, achieves everything she doesn't deserve, she will have proved her own life's philosophy wrong, and that is all the revenge I could wish for."

He smiled, agreed and admired it. Lizzy came in and sat down with little Rose in arms to keep them company. While they did talk some, and Mr. Cummings did not intend to stay long, he remained long enough for Georgiana to finish playing. It had been so long since Georgiana played, quite surprising for being one of her first accomplishments. Lizzy asked that she play more, which she most reluctantly obliged. Of course, they had all been out in company with Mr. Cummings, so that playing in his presence did not feel like a stranger. In previous times, he had always been attentive, whether it was Mary or Georgiana at the instrument, turning the sheets of music over. Well, that gentlemanly office was not to be left vacant. Georgiana made a selection, one of which she was progressing but not quite mastered yet. No matter! He helped to turn the pages, and stood respectfully by. When she'd come to one chord, a troublesome thing for its fingering, striking two bad notes at a time, she blushed and almost prepared to give this up for another piece.

"Will you permit me, Miss Darcy?" Mr. Cummings stepped forward, tried the chord, but not at the allegro pace of the music. Exaggerated and slow, he modeled the notes correctly. "Now, go ahead."

"… That's it!" she gasped. Her eyes remained fixed on the music, victorious over it. "Thank you, sir."

"You play marvelously."

"There's still plenty of work to do on it."

"I think you need to slow it down a little more, give yourself a chance to learn it."

"It's important to play it correctly, as the composer intended. One reason that I practice so much, I have to stumble through it two dozen times."

"Perfection is not always found in precision. If that were the case, then artistic expression would no longer exist."

Between the quick look between the sisters, some intrigue had been excited. Mr. Cummings did not call too often; he maintained the common acquaintance of the family. It pleased Mary very much to observe the good effects of her rejection, having brought about this new turn of mind. Despite his shortcomings, she was able to accept the faults of a good man and good friend, and far be it from her, to judge him severely and not recommend him to another. In another year, another London season, the heart and the fancy would come to turn, between his kindness, and Miss Darcy's valuation of good character, and a mutual passion for music, towards one another.

When it was finally safe to declare good news abroad, both the Carter residence and the Darcys house received a flood of congratulations by post. Mary sat hearing them all read out by her mother. It took her husband's returning from the clinic to rescue her. After four weeks, and with her stitching removed, Mary was, with greater ease and strength, walking up and downstairs. Her trunks were packed, to make ready for the very short trip home tomorrow. Mrs. Carter and sister Ruth decided it best she did not come home immediately, giving them time to make the house ready. In addition, against the better judgment of the couple, a traditional, belated wedding breakfast would be spread, and the family would be joined by their own friends and celebrate in calm, modest fashion. Mary was duly warned by her dearest that she'd scarcely be able to get through the front door; his mother had ordered an abundance of florals and between the two women, the flower arch was absolutely ridiculous.

"How sweet of your mother! A woman after my own heart," replied Mrs. Bennet. "Oh Mary, yesterday, Miss Carter took me to the house, just to see. It is so charming a house. A little old-fashioned in some respects, no disrespect, sir. But you will have a marvelous time, making it up as you please."

If anything, after Mary would be done with refurnishing, they both knew the house would be looking positively antiquated.

"Thank you, Mama."

"Oh, Dr. Carter, I must read you this one. It just came today, from Lady Lucas!"

"Mama please, I've already heard it."

It would seem that her mother had written all twenty-four families in Meryton, which demanded a letter from each one. Lady Lucas' reply was nothing very special, compared with all the others. Through her, news also reached into Kent, into Hunsford, and to her own daughter's ears. Charlotte, through a letter to Lizzy, conveyed hers and Mr. Collins' joy at the doubly good news. Kitty had written to share the news with Mrs. Abbots, contributing to the outpouring. She'd written another letter but never sent it. One letter received with great surprise, was addressed to Jane, from Mrs. Hurst. Husband and wife did not break the seal for several hours, until the anxious suspense was too much. It must have been read in the papers. Nothing had been told them directly. Mrs. Hurst congratulated her sister-in-law on another sister well married and settled, and what a fine thing to have a doctor for a brother-in-law. Such a respectable profession.

Not a syllable was mentioned of Caroline, as to how she fared, how they all got on, and what was the reception and spirit of the family after Caroline's banishment from the Grove House. Charles was pleased enough with the letter to leave the matter be. Now that things had settled, he considered visiting the Hursts to pay them their due notice. Miss Bingley never cordially forgave her brother or his wife. The family did talk. Old Mr. Murray was far from pleased with the division. But as Charles predicted, whether Caroline paid the family a visit in the north or she wore out her welcome with the Hursts, time and experience would silence the protests. Miss Bingley sent no letters, no compliments, no invitations to them. She kept a wide berth now from any possibility of encountering a member of the Darcy family. What friends she kept acted carefully to keep her out of certain social circles, for the sake of her own feelings. Relations improved between the two sisters, enough to make them tolerable company to one another. They would continue their pursuit of higher standing in the world, courting the notice of those above them while abusing their ill-breeding over cards, and talk of their brother's fine estate in Nottinghamshire when in company. It was a balm for the pride when, eventually, the wedding announcement of Colonel Fitzwilliam, the second son of the Earl of Matlock, was finally printed.

Kitty came upon the three of them in the family room upstairs. Mary's two felines followed, claiming both their laps upon sitting.

"So do you suppose you two shall dance after all?" Kitty inquired. "For tomorrow's party?"

"We've already had a dance, Kitty. It was the park concert… Feels so long ago now."

"Mr. Abbots said, that is Mary King's husband, one of the great perks of being married, you get to stand up with your partner as often as you please."

"That was very happy news to have. I'm so glad for her. I hope that they will come to town to visit. If I will entertain anyone, I would be delighted to have them." Mrs. Bennet affected some surprise that such an awkward girl could get herself married. Still, with four daughters married, she was a lot more generous in her good wishes than previously. Before long, they were joined by a clamor from the hallway; of course, this was the afternoon off for the nursemaids. Lizzy came in bringing her own, a calm and passive infant, while the plump figure of little Dora and younger but taller Davy were hanging onto their grandfather's coattails.

"Papa, I was teasing you," said Jane, coming in after with Charles and Mr. Darcy.

"Jane, I've never even played charades with you as children. Don't you know me by now?"

"What's all this, Mr. Bennet?" asked his wife. "Children, you best let go of his coattails. He can be very snappish around adorable children."

"I was having a conversation with little Davy here. He doesn't laugh, not at all. So Jane here, raises the mad suggestion to send for a bowl of fruit. He will laugh if you catch grapes in your mouth." No one laughed harder than Jane or Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet was not entirely immune either. "Tell me it isn't true, my boy. I'd hoped my eldest child was more sensible than to suggest such a thing. Don't tell me she's raising a silly boy, is she? And you too," looking at Dora, "you going to be a silly girl too… No? Are you sure?" She shook her head so violently that her curls whipped.

Davy, still too young for much in the way of speech, babbled something to his grandfather, while holding up a toy rabbit. This set off Dora, begging him to sit. With a feigned reluctance, as if it posed a most annoying inconvenience, he took a chair by the fire, only to be climbed on.

"Oh, don't act all sweet to me. I know, I know. You want my pockets, don't you? Why don't you see, Dora." It was just one of the children's toys from the nursery. An almost imperceptible disappointment crossed her face. "Oh dear. How silly of me. I wasn't going to steal it mind you! You were having so much fun with it that I thought I'd borrow it."

This entertained them for some time. The last one to gather was Lydia, roused from a late nap and somewhat sulky for not feeling any rested for it. They'd all been gathered at the house for a month, more or less. The prospect of removing for home nagged on the heart. Taking her place by her mother, Mary sighed thankfully that she now consumed her mother's attention away from all the letters.

"Have patience, my love," cooed Mrs. Bennet. Wrapping an arm round, leaning her head against Lydia's curls. "Day after tomorrow. We shall be on the road for home."

"But what shall people say, Mama? I just dread going back, like a failure."

"Never mind who chooses to talk. All families have their troubles, you know. We'll conjure up something, and hush it up as best we can. And we have so many good friends, they'll be kinder to you than all your neighbours in Newcastle."

This was certainly an improvement in situation, for Lydia to return to the stability and familiar comfort of Longbourn. About a week ago, the topic had been discussed between the men of the family: between the Darcy, Bingley, Bennet, and Gardiner family. Mr. Wickham had proven himself too unreliable in his own finances, and the attempted crime against his own sister-in-law demanded a reckoning. Deportation from the country, however desirable, was quickly dismissed from thought. It was not out of any sympathy for him or sentiment that they refrained. More discussions followed with Mr. Spencer. It would involve a hearing, a trial, a jury, and a verdict. Publicity. After consulting with Kitty and hearing her personal feelings, she desired none of it. Mr. Bingley was keen to keep her from having to stand up publicly and denounce her sister's husband, to detail being attacked and have her own character cross-examined by another lawyer. Would Caroline dare try to come forward? And Kitty, she could not speak a word against the man without also slapping her sister in the face. It was judged best to let Wickham's creditors demand an accounting. It would not take long, without any financial assistance from the family, to come calling for him. By the end of the week, just a few days ago now, Mr. Spencer informed the family that Mr. Wickham was now an inmate of some debtor's prison in Nottinghamshire.

Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Wickham grieved over the state of affairs, but mother soon took an idea into her head that cheered their prospects. Lydia, her dearest child and her own children, return with them to Hertfordshire. The Bingleys and the Darcys offered to place her on their own estates. Fine options to be sure, except for being lonely and friendless. Mr. Bennet did not argue this arrangement, no matter how sorely tempting it was, settling Lydia at some distance from Longbourn. Domestic felicity would take a reversal from three years ago. And this time, there was no hope of ever getting his youngest daughter off his hands, unless of course, a droll fancy about his son-in-law turned morbid.

Their last family dinner in Grovsnor Square was marked by venison and fish. Of course, it wasn't so good as those cooked over a campfire on the shores of Brighton, but still capital, every course. Kitty and Georgiana sat together discussing the coming trip back to Meryton. For it could not be put off indefinitely. Lydia couldn't help whisper to Kitty over these last several nights how fun and droll it would be. "Just like old times." Jane and Mr. Bingley would be departing the same day as the rest of the family, to return home, to the Grove House. Promises of many letters didn't take away any pain. After all the struggles endured together, all the victories and the terror of meeting them, it was a shame to part with Jane. Not just her sister, but also her own brother, dear Charles, who would always be her favourite among brothers—he would be missed dearly. And little Davy, watching him grow from babble to words to full speech, knowing she would have to forego all of it, weighed heavily. Lydia's little glance checked her, before she sunk into tears. Of all things, this was not a time to be teased about Mr. Murray.

Just as all finished eating, ready to adjourn to the sitting room, the butler slipped in to call Mr. Darcy away on a matter of business downstairs. It must be Mr. Spencer. While he excused himself, Lizzy led the company out as customary. Everyone would take some of the good wine together, no separation of gentlemen and ladies. The fire was lit, and the room uncomfortably warm. Both she and Jane hastened to open the windows, let in a little air for Mary.

"I'm fine, really!"

"It will do us all good," Lizzy rebuffed. "It's nice to have the rain stopped, at least for now. That should dry out the roads for everyone's journey."

"Where shall you two go, for your wedding journey?" asked Kitty.

"We've not decided yet," replied Captain Carter. "I did have a notion of taking Mary to Brighton, take a small cottage for a week or two, and live like rustics."

"Marvelous!" "That's so romantic!" "Perfect for both of you." Compliments around the room.

"Before you go, may I make a recommendation?" Lydia demanded. "Mary, be on the lookout for these shops. There's a milliner's called Sullhach, beautiful hats. Perfect for a trousseau! And there's a sweet place with imports called Liysyl's. I saw some gorgeous china when I walked by the windows with Mrs. Forster. And across the street, anything you could want in material and patterns, there's a shop called the Knitting Princess." Mr. Bennet's eyes began to glaze. All her sisters had a slight smile growing. "And one of the most important—no, the most important place you ought to visit there, a shop called Ormstron."

"What's so special about that one?" wondered Kitty.

"That's where I bought that red silk dress. You must, must promise me you'll stop there and have a look for yourselves. Captain Carter, please promise me that you'll treat your wife to a crimson silk."

Mary blushed. "Lydia!"

"Don't you think she looked very well in mine?"

"You mean that dress she wore to the exhibition… Yes, it was…"

"Yes?"

"I don't think the dress did much for her, but she did something extraordinary to the dress. I don't know. Maybe it was that wicked look in her eye," he confessed. With a look out of his peripheral, fixed on his wife, he proudly declared: "More striking and fearsome than any general. Heaven help the man or woman that dares tangle with her."

Rousing the company to laughter and Lydia to clap her hands, they missed Mr. Darcy, briefly reappearing to call his friend out of the room quietly. Nobody questioned it. When both of them stepped back into the room, something seemed wrong, or something had occurred to be disconcerting to both of them. Jane was first to ask if anything was the matter.

"No, no, I don't believe so. Nothing that way—Well…" Charles took the obligation himself, and nervously approached. "Kitty, I've a message for you."

"Message? For me?"

A small letter was removed from his coat, of simple seal and few words. Everyone waited, but Mrs. Bennet would not hold her tongue. "Who's it from? What does it say?"

"I'm trying to make it out, Mama," replied Kitty. "Something… Something about a greenhouse. Would you… Would you ever… consider it? If… plenty plants can live in a greenhouse… I can too."

"What on earth?" "Who sent it?" "What kind of riddle is that?" "Did they sign it?"

"What is this writing, Kitty?" demanded Mrs. Bennet, leaning over her shoulder. "It looks foreign."

Leaping to her feet, breathless she begged: "Charles! Was it—Did he really come?"

"He's downstairs now. The whole family. He wants to know if you would like to see him. Do you wish to?"

His smile alone nearly overcame her composure. "Please."

Mr. Darcy opened the door, stepped into the hallway and bid them enter. Signore Andreozzi and the entire family, one by one, filed into the family room. Every man, every woman, was dressed smart and fashionably. Kitty barely had attention left to notice Ilaria, who had pinned up her hair, donned her anniversary gown, and wore pearls in her ears. Quite a beauty! Her husband, all the brothers, the uncles, cousins—poor Lydia. And there stood Paolo Andreozzi, dazzling and as dangerous as ever, bowing to the entire family, presenting her a bouquet of cherry blossoms.

"Good evening, signorina," he greeted her. "Please, forgive the intrusion. Thank you for your graciousness, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley. I had called a few days ago—"

"No trouble," vouched Mr. Darcy. "Please continue."

"I've come to call to say my family will be departing soon for Italy, but as you are still in town, I thought I might take this opportunity. Forgive me all, for the lengthy list of introductions too. May I present…" By one and by couples, each member of the Andreozzi family was given recognition by the Bennets and their extended clans. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, now that you've met our entire family, allow me to explain our visit. Mr. Bingley, good man, had engaged me for our services in refurbishing and renovating the gardens and woods on his estate these last several months. During one night, which we had hosted our gracious employers, the men here entertained all the company with their singing. Miss Bennet was so enamored by it, and during the ball, I made an extension of my contract."

Kitty blushed violently, but no one else in the room would observe it.

"As it was her favourite part of our entertaining, I promised signorina that if she and her family ever come to visit Italy, my family and I would sing for her pleasure. Well, after some consideration, that may not ever happen or may not happen for a long time. It would be much more convenient now, as you are all gathered. Unless of course—"

"No objections at all," said Mr. Darcy.

With a couple exchanges of words, one of the young cousins produced at least four mandolins between Paolo and three of his brothers.

"Katerina. Questo è per te."

Mary almost wished that members of the Starlight Circle could've been present. Talent and pride suited for fading into insignificance. Signore Andreozzi began alone and unaccompanied, some unknown Italian love song. With a few verses, the mandolins began to strum softly and the uncles, brothers, cousins, and other men, from young to old, joined in the serenade. Oh the reactions the music and singing incited—as all their voices united in harmonization. At first, it seemed all so unorthodox, and odd that any man such as Mr. Darcy would be at ease with the intrusion of strangers. By the power of vocals, just as Kitty had experienced herself once before, the whole house was transported, transplanted to Italy. It wasn't warm in the house, but a warm night that had been baking the house through the day. Now, the windows were open, letting in the cool breezes rolling off the Mediterranean.

Mrs. Bennet's eyes closed, listening. Lydia breathed shallow and soundlessly, though she gaped. Mary had also closed her eyes, drinking the sounds, savoring the rich baritones. In particular, the older Uncle Garazza, who soared solo for a few verses, provoked the smiles of all the English gentlemen in the room. The old man's power and pitch turned the eyes of the sisters misty. Georgiana reclined back against the sofa, as if by the looks of her, she was picturing a scene on a gondola. Each of them were wonderful in their own right, and for the majority of it, he did not remove his eyes from her. Even during the ten or fifteen seconds that their song rested, the mandolins filled the air so sweetly. The message, despite imperfect translation, rang out clearly. If plenty of plants can live in a greenhouse, so can I. As long as there is water and sunlight, there is life. And you are water and sunlight. Between all the singing and comprehension, the eyes grew misty. He brought all his family here, just for her, just for her pleasure, and no doubt, to introduce all of them to her family. Even if objections be raised, he was not about to keep it quiet and secretive, but boldly, prepared and eager, nothing to hide. If he could do that…

"That was beautiful," breathed Kitty. Her voice came so soft at the end of the song and the end of everyone's applause. All her sisters and Georgiana echoed her praise. "Your message. Do you mean to tell me you've changed your mind?"

"… I never changed my mind. From then until now, my desire for and my pleasure in your company never changed. Our decision was supposed to be the wisest course. It seemed the right thing, the unselfish thing. But wisdom should bring contentment, not regret. And I've felt nothing but regret since the night of the ball."

"As have I."

"Am I too late, Katerina? Am I—"

"No! No, you're not too late."

"Perhaps you're wondering what took so long, but I've been busy. I thought you'd like to know that I've taken a house in Richmond."

"Richmond! But are you not going to return to Italy?"

"There will always be a home there. My family shall return, but my home is here… My home is my conservatory, my own collection of plants, my personal Eden—one that we grow together with our own hands. Katerina," he paused, forgetting to draw breath. It wasn't so much for romantic effect but for lack of the self-possession needed to translate emotion through a second language. "Ti amo. Mi vuoi sposare?"

"… Sì."

" Sì?"

"Sì, le mie ortiche, con tutto il cuore."

At last, all the right words in the right order! Some of his family behind him were gasping, trying not to burst. They could attest for him, as well as Kitty's family could attest for herself, neither of them ever looked so happy in their life before.

"Shall I ask?" he offered. "Is your father here?"

"Yes. He's over there—Papa, Signore Andreozzi would like to ask you something." Kitty turned back, rushed to him, and pulled him from his cozy place by the fire. Everything seemed like a matter of course, a young man approaching Kitty, but having his daughter take him by the hand and summon him forward, to petition his blessing, was the last thing expected. "This is my father."

"Mr. Bennet, it would be an honour if I may have your daughter's hand in marriage."

"Are you sure?"

"Papa!"

"I'm not the traditional sort of thing you're looking for in a son-in-law, I'm sure."

"Not traditional? Look around you, young man. I think my daughters and my sons-in-law can attest to the fact, that what is traditional and what is customary are the furthest thing from my thoughts." He chuckled. "I think that better qualifies you. I've never known a gentleman to ever make a public proposal before the family, and in theatrical fashion."

"Thank you, signore."

"Kitty, I think, based on what I've seen thus far, I'm inclined to like your young man, but I don't know him at all."

"Perhaps, we may ask all the family?" she suggested. "If they consent, will you?"

Pretending to contemplate the matter with all gravity, he paused and hesitated to respond until she begged him into it. "Alright," he whispered, nodding.

With a racing heart, she stepped forward, taking Paolo's own hand. "Charles, Jane? Do you give us your blessing?" she pleaded.

Mr. Bingley, without hesitation and with the greatest enthusiasm cried: "Absolutely!"

Jane, holding his own hand, spoke with a thickened voice: "Yes… A thousand times yes!"

To each one, Kitty turned eagerly. To Mr. Darcy: "If you promise, signore, that Katherine will always be cared for and loved, this family shall always welcome you, and you will always be one of our family. We are a proud family, the lot of us, but there is no prejudice."

From Lizzy: "Yes. I second that. And I add too, I respect very much a man that will defy convention for pure motives. I'm sure that will be no more easier for you than my sister, but if you undertake that choice, I commend you both to each other."

From Mrs. Bennet: "Well, this is all very unexpected. I'm quite overcome. Oh, my nerves! That is all well, but Kitty, my dear, an Italian, and a—tradesman? What is it, landscaping?"

Here, Mr. Bingley intervened. "Mrs. Bennet, not to influence you unduly," he lied. "But if you are concerned as to certain matters, just a hint. A residence in Richmond is not cheap." This effectively quelled any further objections. Were there other objections? Indeed. But getting over the one, what did the others matter? Mr. Darcy looked over at his friend with wide eyes.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Neither can I," shrugged Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bennet laughed at the two of them.

From Mary: "I don't believe in going along with the crowd, Kitty. But in this instance, I must concur, where two wise and thinking people can agree with their differences in temperament and circumstance, no decisions made in such a way can be unwise. Yes!"

From Captain Carter: "I agree. I do not know you either, Signore Andreozzi. But I trust Mrs. Bingley's judgment. I've known all the Miss Bennets some time now. As to your choice, I can vouch personally, you could not have chosen better."

"And you, Lydia?" Even if her opinion did not matter, all just the same.

"Good lord, Kitty! You little fool, what are you asking me for? Why you asking everyone's opinion? You want to give them a chance to say no? Hang anyone who objects; just say yes!"

Too late for her elder sisters to hush a vulgarly, strong opinion, but having had the opinion of all in the room, now, all was left to Mr. Bennet. And the final word: "You do not need my blessing, Kitty. You are a good girl, and your choice does you credit. You are much changed, but still, with the right amount of silly about you. If he were too sensible a man, I should be worried whether you both would suit each other. But I think this is proof enough, he has the same capacities in good measure." He swallowed, nodded, smiled. "Take her, my good man. With my blessing."

Because of language barrier, comprehension was delayed on one side, but the sight of the couple rejoicing with embrace sparked happy outcry and applause on both sides. Secured by the heartfelt expressions of all her loved ones, the most natural impulse seized. When he was about to delicately bring hand to the lips, she seized him by the head in a daring, albeit modest, kiss. Ilaria grabbed her in a fierce embrace, and Kitty found herself pressed and squeezed by each of the women. Signora grabbed her by the face, pecking a kiss on each cheek. All Paolo's brothers delivered a kiss to her hand, with personal expressions of their own. Having achieved such a great moment, Uncle Garazza announced it time that the family dismiss themselves, leaving the couple to converse. More to celebrate later, he promised.

In turn, now that very formal introductions were done with, Kitty introduced everyone by their Christian names, named her sisters by birth order and to each their husbands. Poor Lydia, more than ever, felt the regret of her own choice. She, who had been the first married, had only to compare the differences between their diary entries. Her marriage did not draw this kind of attention or incite this amount of joy. It paled in significance to the grand matches of her eldest sisters. And to think the most plain and disinterested of her sisters had been the one to catch a redcoat—an old beau, in her personal opinion, too quickly and foolishly discarded. And now Kitty, her dearest friend, impossible not to be happy for her. For the first time in life, in private reflections, Kitty was an object of envy to have been overlooked by Mrs. Forster and never invited to Brighton.

No way I could use this particular song because it's too modern for Regency era, but if I had any song in mind writing this scene: it was Ed Sheeran's Perfect. There's a version out there with him and Andrea Bocelli singing this in Italian. Sheeran is certainly sweet and talented but Bocelli and that voice just blows him out of the water! And the way the men harmonize in the song, oh my goodness, you Kitty and all your family deserve that!

One Guest commented: Would Kitty go after him or he come to her? I hope this was satisfying to you. I think this worked well for Mary, being the one to say "I love you" first because Captain Carter has already proven himself to her. With Kitty, I see her as having gone from an impulsive girl who rushes after what she wants, to a mature person who can make a rational decision without being clouded by emotion. I see it as she made the hard choice and she was willing to live with it. In my opinion, in this situation, he should make the move, not her.

I'm sure some readers are groaning over this ending, but that's okay. Hope the rest wasn't so bad, at least, tolerable.

If you did not see yourself mentioned in the story, it does not mean I didn't care about your review. I just couldn't include everyone. And there are so many Guest reviewers out there who've been awesome in your compliments or critique but I have no name for you beside GUEST. Still, your input throughout has been much appreciated. All who have followed and favorite the story, thank you! One last chapter, and this War & Peace manuscript comes to an end.