Page 130 of I Thee Wed

Lydia bit her tongue. None of her family had been permitted to write. At school, isolation had been the headmistress’s chosen weapon, cutting off pupils from all contact, impressing upon them that they would be forever abandoned should they fall. Most of the girls had learned the lesson swiftly. Lydia had not. She had raged and rebelled, and only yielded to discipline after four long years. Her mother had been permitted to write only two months earlier, in preparation for her return home.

She answered carefully. “Lizzy is a busy married woman and has little time to write to her sister. So tell me all about Charlotte.”

The bell chimed again. A tall young man stood on the threshold, his eyes fixed on the two women who stood before him.

He whispered her name. “Elizabeth?”

Maria looked up. “Alexander, this is Lydia. You remember Lydia Bennet. She is my age, but perhaps you do not. Lydia, you remember my brother?”

Lydia looked him over from the crown of his fair head to his fine shoes and grinned. “Of course I do. Who could forget a man with such handsome features, fair hair, and blue eyes?”

Alexander flushed at her boldness, proof enough that she was not Elizabeth Bennet, whose manners were sweet and proper.

Lydia saw his flush and the pucker of his brow. She laughed lightly. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Lucas. I imagine my frank remark was discomfiting. Let me begin again, this time as befits a lady.” She dipped into a graceful curtsey. “Mr. Lucas, it is a pleasure to see you again, sir, after so many years.”

Alexander bowed. “Miss Lydia. I have come to collect Maria. May we escort you home? I do not see a companion with you.”

“There is no need, Mr. Lucas,” Lydia replied. “Mamma has stepped over to my Aunt Phillips’s house. She instructed me to remain here until her return.”

Alexander chuckled. “We both know that may be hours, given the pleasure those two sisters take in each other’s company. Allow us to escort you to your aunt’s door.” He turned to his sister. “Mother sent me to say that Christopher and his parents are expected for dinner.”

Maria brightened. “Yes, I am ready, Lydia, as soon as you are.”

Lydia gathered her selection, a bolt of lace, and smiled. “Let me settle for this, and I shall be ready.”

While the clerk measured and cut the lace, Lydia’s eyes strayed to Alexander, where he stood beside his sister. He was tall and well-formed, a fine-looking man. She realized she felt a stirring of excitement in his presence. Then her eyes narrowed. He had abandoned her sweet Lizzy for Mary King, a short, freckled little thing, all for her dowry. He had proven himself capable of dismissing a lifelong attachment for the love of money. She clenched her jaw. How dare he throw aside her sister?

Her eyes returned to his face as he spoke to Maria. How old was he now? She remembered that he was two years older than Elizabeth, six and twenty. A man of years and experiencemight prove steadier, knowing his own mind and able to remain constant to the woman he loved.

Time and experience had altered her. Perhaps they had altered him as well. She drew on her gloves with deliberate care.I shall see how he has turned out. If he has improved and his character has settled into something honorable, then perhaps he is worth my notice.

Epilogue

December 20, 1816

Christmas at Pemberley brought snow upon the ground and an icy wind in the air. Within the house, the fragrance of pine and holly from the wreaths Elizabeth and Jane had fashioned sweetened the rooms. The grand staircase was dressed with garlands of pine boughs and holly berries, secured with bright red ribbons.

After dinner, the family gathered in the drawing room to play with the children before they were sent up to the nursery. Elizabeth looked at her husband, tall, masculine, and hers. He held their daughter, tightly wrapped in a blanket and asleep in her father’s arms. She glanced down at her two sons, who lay on the floor playing with tin soldiers beside their little cousin Phillip. Her eyes sought Lady Helen and found her in a circle with Phillip and Lady Abigail, rocking baby Abby in her arms. The Earl was absent, confined to Matlock with a gouty foot. He had indulged too freely in the weeks leading up to the holiday and now remained confined to his bedchamber.

Lady Helen was vastly contented. She had told Elizabeth that Abby was a blessing to their family, and that Phillip now spent his time at home rather than following his father’s ways, though Abby would never have allowed it. She was a strong woman who spoke plainly.

Elizabeth’s gaze swept the room and found her father, the Bingleys, and Mrs. Bennet seated near the fire. Her relationship with her mother was not close, but they wrote once a month and were civil when in company, which occurred but twice a year.Jane was happy at last. Caroline had accepted her circumstances and caused no further disturbances. James Bingley had purchased an estate, and though he and Caroline would never be leaders in high society, they were leaders in their community. They now had three children. James had established a charity for an orphanage in Leeds, and Caroline had found success in planning its fundraising activities. She was well-regarded in her neighborhood and was satisfied.

The Collins, Bennets, and the Warwicks sat on couches opposite one another. Mary rocked her daughter while little Thomas played at her feet with Kitty’s children, Daniel and Catherine. Mrs. Warwick, her mother-in-law, cradled baby Robby, who had fallen asleep. The two couples had formed a close connection, and the family ties between them were strong. Richard and Anne were frequently included in the dinners and smaller celebrations of the households.

Elizabeth’s gaze turned to the group farthest from the hearth: the Lucases and Fitzwilliams. Lydia and Alexander stood arm in arm, speaking with Richard and Anne. Richard carried his son, David William, his head tucked under his father’s chin, fast asleep. Anne, heavy with child, stood for a few minutes before sinking back into her seat and propping her legs up, clearly uncomfortable. The Fitzwilliams and Lady Helen would remain at Pemberley for Anne’s confinement. Richard had placed notices in the London papers to fill the vacancy for a physician in the Hunsford parish, but none had yet been secured. Consequently, they were at Pemberley, and Dr. Rutledge would deliver her baby.

Dr. Rutledge had married the midwife, which had made Charlotte and Elizabeth chuckle together. “I told you that had you been a nurse, you might have captured the surgeon.”

Georgiana was not at Pemberley this Christmas. She had married Viscount Eldon in the autumn, and this was her first Christmas away from Darcy. Elizabeth recalled her husband’s tears as he walked Georgiana up the nave at St. George’s. She had been more a daughter than a sister to him. Georgiana, however, was happy in love, and her husband was a kind, sensible man, much like Richard and Darcy. All had taken to him with ease. The Eldons had promised to visit at Easter, when Elizabeth’s family would gather again. Elizabeth knew their good fortune in securing Eldon for Georgiana, for men like him were rare. Eldon was an only child, and the hopes of the family rested upon him and his young wife.

Elizabeth’s gaze returned to Alexander, the tall, fair man she had loved for half her life. She wondered where that love had gone. When she looked at him now, she saw him as a brother. She felt none of the discomfort she had once imagined when she first heard of his betrothal to Lydia. She was grateful that nothing from the past stood between them, for she did love him still, though now only as a brother.

Her eyes fell to Miss Farrow, who sat with the nannies. She was now raising Jane’s children. Elizabeth knew how much the Bennets owed that lady, both on Lydia’s and Mrs. Bennet’s behalf. Elizabeth had already decided that she would live at Pemberley when she was no longer able to work because of age or frailty. She had become a member of the Bennet family.

Elizabeth was grateful that Lady Catherine had declined the invitation, as she had done every year. She lived in Bath and had invited Mrs. Jenkinson to live with her as a companion. Surprisingly, the two ladies got along well together. Lady Catherine liked to complain, and Mrs. Jenkinson enjoyed commiserating.

And so it was, amidst children’s laughter, the fond discourse of relations, and her husband’s eyes fixed upon her with unspoken devotion, that Elizabeth Darcy was confirmed in the happy conviction that her greatest fortune was not Pemberley, nor her husband’s wealth, but the man himself who shared it with her.