Page 29 of A Promise Made

“Papa’s indolence and selfishness were forgivable, of course,” she told her husband the next day, as the family travelled towards Longbourn. “However, his worst traits got in the way of truly equal and mutually satisfying relationships.”

Darcy gently teased, “Little pitchers…” nodding towards the baby suckling at her breast.

Elizabeth laughed, “Yes, I am terribly afraid that our four-month-old son will be scarred because of my philosophical musing about the complicated relationship between me and my father.”

The other four children—two boys and two girls—were in another carriage, along with Nurse and the nursery maid. The growing family would visit the children’s grandmother, of course, and all five of the Darcys’ sisters would converge on Longbourn and Netherfield Park with their families.

Darcy most especially looked forward to visiting his sister Georgiana, who had just two months before finally ended several years of longing for a child by having twins. The discomfort he felt about two very healthy twins being introduced to the Bennet family had been entirely dissipated by Lydia’s and Mrs Bennet’s heartfelt delight.

During the visit, Mr William Collins would come to the Meryton law office to finalise matters. The entail had, in essence, been set aside years ago, but now it was time for it to be officially broken. Darcy carried with him the documents that would protect Mrs Bennet for the rest of her life and bequeath Longbourn to Elizabeth’s and his second oldest child, Cecilia.

It felt like, at long last, Darcy would finally fulfil his promise made so many years ago.

* * *

The next day, when they finally arrived at Longbourn, the Darcys’ children seemed to erupt out of their carriage. The older three children, Edward, Cecilia, and Alexander, were apparently in the middle of a make-believe game that seemed to include pirates, smugglers, courageous Royal Navy captains, and the tiny U.S. ships that had won big victories, the so-called Mosquito Fleet. Edward and Alexander Darcy immediately ran to the garden, where one of the curved terraces had long been considered by the children a boat of some sort. Cecilia entered the house, hoping to find cousins to invite to play with them.

“Where is Clara?” Elizabeth asked. It turned out that their three-year-old daughter was still asleep in the carriage. Elizabeth carried baby Thomas into the house while Darcy carried Clara. Servants were unpacking the carriages and caring for the horses, and Darcy and Elizabeth were glad that Longbourn’s housekeeper, Mrs Hill, was capably directing the entire endeavour.

Mrs Hill held the door open for Lizzy and Darcy. She murmured “Hello, darling Clara. Oh, here you are at last, Tommy-boy! It is so very wonderful to meet you!”

Three of Lizzy’s sisters had already arrived with their husbands and children, and Cecilia ended up collecting seven cousins to play the pirate, smuggler, and navy game. One of the cousins was still too little.

Not five minutes after the Darcys’ arrival, the Fitzwilliams arrived with Georgiana’s family following them shortly after. Jane and Richard Fitzwilliam had three children, and the twins Georgiana and her husband, the Viscount Darrington, proudly showed off were the youngest children in the gathering.

There was a great deal of hugging, not a few tears, and smiles and sorrowful expressions alike. Cheerful anecdotes were told as often as poignant stories about the dearly departed Mr Bennet.

Mrs Bennet hugged and squeezed and kissed and exclaimed over all the children, being extremely proud of the older ones and completely delighted by the babies. She clung to each of her daughters for some earnest exchanges, and she kissed each of her sons-in-law, including her honorary son-in-law, Viscount Darrington.

But Darcy was special. Jane kissed both of his cheeks and said, “Now that the entail is finally about to be officially broken, I feel even more emotional about what you did for our family.”

Catherine (also known as Kitty) embraced Darcy, accepted his kiss on her forehead, and cried for several minutes. “Thank you,” she finally mumbled. “I do not have the words for what I feel, but I am certain that Jane said the appropriate thing, so please pretend as if I said whatever she said.”

Mary gave him a quick hug and said, “I am certain that God sent you to us, but I recognise that you gladly followed God’s plan; you were the willing instrument of God’s benevolence, and I thank you again and again.”

Lydia addressed Darcy very solemnly. “You know that you changed all of our lives for the better, and I hope you realise how dearly we love you for it. I cannot imagine all of us being so happily settled if you had not come to Longbourn all those years ago. Goodness, it has been almost two decades! But I owe you the most gratitude, because you helped me know for the first time about the real, true Tommy, little James Thomas.”

Rather than crying during this emotional speech, Lydia was smiling, and her hug was four times as fierce as Catherine’s.

Mother Bennet, as she liked her sons-in-law to address her, was even more effusive. She went on and on to Darcy, without ceasing or even pausing, and she did so several times in the three days the family was together. Each time Elizabeth would have to rescue him.

Of course there was much talk about Father Bennet, also known as Grandfather Bennet, and there was a caravan of carriages to the burial glade, where the patriarch had been buried next to his only son. Mr Bingley had given up the lease for Netherfield, and Darcy had purchased the estate and reorganised both it and Longbourn so that the glade became part of Longbourn’s property. Darcy had also authorised the construction of a well maintained road from Longbourn’s manor house to the glade.

Darcy had leased Netherfield to a carefully vetted family who had been lovely neighbours for the Bennets for the past decade.

The Darcys, Fitzwilliams, and the Darrington family were all guests at Netherfield, and the night after the entail was officially broken, everyone came to that estate for a celebratory dinner.

The next evening would be their last; they planned to leave for home the next morning. Darcy was snuggling little Clara after reading her a bedtime story.

“Papa,” Clara said, “What did Aunt Lydie mean when she said Darcy’s promise?”

“Darcy’s promise?”

“Yes. She said it very…very grand. Like it was ‘portant. Or like it was the name of a book.”

Darcy admired how well Clara spoke, for a three-year-old, and had to consciously wrest his mind off his admiration and actually attend to what she was saying. He said, “Well, a very, very long time ago, when I was a boy only a few years older than Edward, my father and I were in a terrible accident, and I broke my leg. A doctor rushed to help me, but the family the doctor had been helping first had an even more terrible accident, and a person died. My father was very upset that our accident had hurt another family, and he made me promise to help the other family.”

“A very slom promise, right?”