Part One
London, 1895
"Why, it is a truth generally acknowledged, that Lady Elizabeth Bennet is in need of a husband! Someone must be able to tame her!"
During his last outburst, the gentleman had gradually raised his voice, and by now all dancing and conversation in the ballroom had stopped completely. All eyes were upon the enraged MP for Derbyshire, the Honourable William Darcy, and the lady opposite him. The couple had been dancing, but then their argument got the better of them both and they had stopped in the middle of the dance - floor to bandy about insults. This last comment of Mr. Darcy’s was aimed to the world at large, in an effort to collect some sympathy, but the lady in question didn't care about the spectators. She shook her dark - red curls, and declared:"And you, sir, are in lack of a sensible wife! How Parliament can stand your ridiculous opinions I know not, but I recommend that you get yourself a wife, or else pay someone to listen to your horrid opinions and so stop you from airing them at respectable parties!"
"I have not...!"
"Enough! You, sir, are the most exasperating man!"
"And you are a disgrace to your sex, my lady!"
That last was a mistake, and everyone who knew Lady Elizabeth cringed. Sure enough, she was quick to give her adversary a hard slap, before turning and stalking out of the ballroom. Mr. Darcy stared after her for a minute, and then he rushed off in pursuit.
"He won't catch her tonight. She has the carriage waiting just outside," said her sister, Lady Mary Bennet, to her hostess and dearest friend Olivia, Duchess of Matlock.
"Oh dear, the poor man. William really should know better than to argue with your sister, Mary dear."
"He should indeed!" Lady Mary laughed. "And yet they constantly end up shouting at each other in front of an audience! Olivia, dearest, have you not noticed how Mr. Darcy never asks anyone to dance, but my sister Elizabeth? Why, he prowls all balls like an angry ... tiger, only waiting for her to appear."
"Oh, why yes, now that you mention it, Mary, he does, doesn't he? But I have yet to see her turn him down."
"Exactly," Lady Mary said dryly. Her friend, though older by several years, was a sweet woman, not inclined to gossip and such amusements, and so it took her awhile to realise something.
"Oh, Mary, you don't think..." But she was interrupted by several friends joining them, two men and three women.
"Now, dearest, what are you two laughing about? Lady Mary, I will not have you corrupting my sweet wife with your tales of the French society," one of the men remarked, claiming the Duchess' hand. Lady Mary smiled.
"I did no such thing! We were but laughing at events closer to home, my lord. Much closer to home."
"Oh, Mary," said one of the ladies, "You really mustn't laugh at our sister's behaviour! It is not seemly, not at all."
Lady Jane Bingley had a mild voice and manner, and she was considered the most beautiful of His Grace the Duke of Longbourn's five daughters. Her face had a content look, which all four of her sisters lacked, and it was enhanced since her marriage to Captain Bingley. Her husband rarely took his eyes off of her, indeed."Mary, you must let us take you home in our carriage," Captain Bingley offered. "Your sister seems to have quite forgotten about you."
Mary could not help but laugh again.
"Do forgive me, friends, but I have not enjoyed a Season this much, ever!"
"I, for my part, cannot wait until they are married and have their own home to quarrel in," put in Lady Katherine Bennet.
"No! No!" cried Lady Mary, "really, Kitty, you mustn't! 'Tis grand comedy, this is, like Much Ado About Nothing, and I for one intend to get my money's worth out of it!"
With that prediction, the sisters and their friends rejoined the dancing. And the ton had more gossip to share over tea the next day. Lady Elizabeth was such a character!
Part Two
The next day, all five sisters could be found in their father's Town house, having tea. At the moment, only Elizabeth, Mary and Lydia were living there, for Katherine was staying with their Aunt Madeleine, Dowager Comtesse de Villeneuve. Lady Jane and her husband lived in another part of Town, Captain Bingley's income not being anything like his father's - in - law. The Duke had been there to welcome Katherine and Jane, but shortly afterwards excused himself, as he found the company of all five of his daughters at one time to be 'too loud, and too much red!'
Indeed, a casual observer would have trouble at first to distinguish individuals in this particular group, as they, at first glance, all seemed very alike in appearance and manners. Then, gradually, you would realise that the five sisters were five very different individuals.Lady Jane was the oldest, and she was protective of her sisters, as she had been in their mother's place for many years, especially to the two youngest. Her beauty was flawless, but the first of the five to really stand out was Lady Elizabeth. Always with flashing eyes, always fighting for a Cause, always on the move, servants, sisters, young men and dogs trailing in her wake. The shortest of them, she had an air that made people turn after her in the streets, and gather round her at balls.
Lady Mary was the third sister, and she had all the patience Elizabeth lacked, all the wit Jane lacked, all the brains Lydia lacked. Handsome rather than pretty, she was very educated for a woman of her day and age, and a great comfort to her father now that Lady Jane was married.
Lady Katherine was the least noticed of the five, for she was somewhat insecure and in her sisters' shadows, but she had the markings of a late bloomer, and a sweet temper to go with the looks.
Lady Lydia was very pretty, and what she lacked in brains, she made up in laughs and wild ideas and daring - do. In fact, the five complemented each other, and most of the time they were the best of friends.Oh, and the hair! The gorgeous, thick, red - brown, curly hair they'd all inherited from their mother! Their father said it was no use trying to curb red - heads, and that was his reason for not interfering overly much in his daughter’s lives. For, what can one do with red - headed ladies but grant them their every wish? And then get out of their way!
Lady Jane poured the tea.
"Elizabeth, you really can't behave like you did yesterday! Lady Olivia will never invite us again."
"Oh, pish - posh! She is Mary's best friend, she knows me too well! But I can't say that I blame her if she never invites Mr. Darcy ever again!""She wouldn't do that, your Mr. Darcy is Johnnie Matlock's cousin!" said Lydia.
"He's not my Mr. Darcy, Lydia! In fact, I never wish to see him ever again!" Elizabeth cried angrily, and left her seat. "He is the most insufferable...!" A maid entered, cutting her off.
"Mr. Darcy is her to see you, Lady Elizabeth."
Mary laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. Jane calmly told the maid to fetch an extra cup, and the youngest sisters had an excellent time of it.
Elizabeth merely stiffened when she heard the name, and turned her back to the room. Jane stood up to welcome Mr. Darcy.He was a handsome man, and very intelligent, the young MP for Derbyshire. Dark of hair and eyes, and very tall, he was a favourite with the ladies of the ton, but he only ever had eyes for Lady Elizabeth, despite the fact that they always quarrelled.
Mr. Darcy at once looked for Elizabeth, but when she would not turn around, he resigned himself to greeting her sisters. Well, Mary was still in convulsions, and Lady Lydia was busy telling Lady Katherine about Johnnie Matlock's younger brother, recently returned from the Continent."I apologise for my sisters," Lady Jane mumbled.
"There is no need for that, Lady Jane. As for the sweet Lady Mary, I am only too happy to provide her with a laugh, for I am well aware of her love of laughing. And as for Elizabeth,” his voice rose, “I can see she is her normal, childish, self."
Elizabeth turned on him, fire in her eyes.
"You, Mr. Darcy, seem to be unaware of your own great faults! You are the only childish person in this room. I do wonder that you dare show yourself here, after your behaviour yesterday!"
"Well, Lady Elizabeth, I did in fact come to apologise to you, but seeing as you are not inclined to listen, and frankly, it was all your fault in the first place, for trying to argue something you have no intimate knowledge of!"
"Why, women are just as clever as men, William Darcy, and we will not tolerate any more of this... this talking down to by the men! I tell you, not before long, women will have the vote and then we shall see who was right about certain things discussed last night!"
"Women will not have the vote anytime soon, but that is quite beside the point, my lady! When have I ever implied that you lacked intelligence? No, I tell you, it is due to my stupid proposal, uttered when I must have been completely away in the clouds, for..."
There he stopped, for he suddenly registered the surprised gasps of their eager audience. Four red heads turned towards a fifth.
"Oh, Lizzie, he asked you to marry him?" cried Lydia.
"Was it romantic?" sighed Katherine shyly.
"Well, this is certainly good news..." added Jane uncertainly.
Lady Elizabeth blushed.
"He did not... I mean, there is not going to be any... I would never accept him! I loathe him!"
The object of her, ah, non - affections stiffened.
"Not that I would ever ask you!" and then he added, "again," for Mr. Darcy took pains to always speak the truth (as he found it).
"Oh, bother!" Lady Elizabeth cried out to the room at large, and stormed out. Mr. Darcy thought for a moment, then dashed after her. The sisters sat in the sudden silence, staring at each other, dazed.
Suddenly Mary shook herself.
"Surely, we are not going to miss this? Why, either she will kill him, or he will propose again!" The sisters stood as one, and made for the door.
Elizabeth walked very quickly towards Hyde Park, but Mr. Darcy was not far behind, and had much longer legs, so he caught up with her in a minute. And then he positioned himself in her path. She stopped, and glared at him.
“From your sisters’ surprise just now, I can tell that the little yarn you spun me yesterday about Lord Wickham proposing was only a tale.”
She didn’t respond, only stared at him with her magnificent green eyes.
"You were trying to make me jealous!" he cried.
"And it looks like I succeeded!" she retorted.
"Why, no! I only came to apologise, and wish you well, in your marriage to Lord Wickham!"
"No, you did not! You are in love with me, you oaf! I can tell!"
"You couldn't tell a horse from an ass, Lady Elizabeth! I most certainly do not love you, and I never will. You are too outspoken."
"And you are too proud and ignorant!"
"Spoiled brat!"
"Politician!"
They did not notice her four sisters, admiring them some little distance off.
"I do hope she doesn't slap him again," said Jane. "One can only take so much, you know." This comment had Mary again bent over with laughter, attracting the notice of two gentlemen nearby. They took in the five beautiful red- heads, and identified the enraged man as that promising young politician, William Darcy.
"Those are the Bennet sisters, then," concluded the older man. "You can tell their mother was Irish." The younger man smiled.
"Now, I know you only came back yesterday, James,” continued the older man, who was in fact the previous night’s host, Johnnie Matlock, “but Olivia missed you last night. Lady Mary, the one laughing so hard she can hardly stand, is almost as entertaining as her sister Elizabeth."
"Lovely ladies, all of them," said Lord James Fitzwilliam. "I take it the one shouting at Cousin William is his intended?"
"Well, I can't see any other man capable of handling her... Not that he seems to do more than enraging her, I must add. But he's been very dull company, these past few months, except when in her environment."
"He should just kiss her!" Lord James mumbled.
Just then, Lady Mary shouted:
"Just kiss her, William!"
Her sisters stiffened, and the combatants both froze, becoming aware of their audience once again, but Lord James gave Lady Mary an interested look. And then it looked as if Mr. Darcy would actually follow Mary's advice, for he took a step towards Elizabeth, and said something in a low voice.
But it was not to be, Lady Elizabeth only shouted "NO!" and slapped him again.
Mr. Darcy's cousins groaned in sympathy, Lady Mary keeled over with silent laughter, and Lady Jane's "Oh, no" was audible in the sudden hush that had fallen over the park.. The fighters both turned in different directions, no doubt nursing their own bruised ego’s.Part Three
The Season was in full swing, so it was only a few days later that all the Bennet sisters were together at a ball again, the centre of everyone’s attention as usual.
The match – making mothers’ had quite given up on securing young men for their daughters, realising that there would be no peace until most of the Bennets were ‘wedded and bedded’, at least Lady Elizabeth and pretty Lady Lydia.
For a change, the Duke of Longbourn was in attendance, but he left his daughters in the capable hands of Lady Jane and Comtesse Madeleine, and withdrew to the gaming – tables.
Madeleine DuJardin, known to everyone as Comtesse Madeleine, was a charming Frenchwoman, and the widow of a distant cousin of the Bennets. She preferred the English Court above the French société, and loved the company of her wild adopted nieces. She towed Lady Elizabeth towards a group of handsome gentlemen, recognising several of them, ignoring her niece who, it seemed, would prefer to sulk in a corner until the entrance of a certain promising young politician.
“Come now, Elizabeth, here is chère Johnnie Matlock and his handsome friends. You must speak with them, indeed I must speak with them, for I have heard strange news of his, how do you say, deranged, yes, deranged Uncle Galahad, they say he lives in a tree! Now, do you not find that strange ma chère?”
Lady Elizabeth had to laugh at this, and so the five gentlemen were treated to the sight of her very fine eyes filled with laughter, and a lovely sight it was indeed.
“Johnnie! You gentlemen must not stand here all talking, when there are so many pretty young ladies in this room! I demand that you introduce us to your friends, though of course I know very well Lord Wickham and Mr. Alexander, both so very occupied with staring at my niece that they should be asking her to dance instead of just staring, that is very rude, you know, Lord Wickham.”
When the Comtesse paused for a breath Lord Wickham was quick to obey her command, and lady Elizabeth accepted almost gracefully, only looking about for a certain someone about seven times every minute.
“Mission accomplished, Comtesse,” said Lord Johnnie. “You have her dancing with Wickham, just about the time William Darcy should enter the ballroom, yes, there he is and now! he sees her, and turns all white, you should be ashamed of yourself, milady, you see how his heart stops when looking at his beloved in the arms of his deadliest rival, and there! Now she sees him, and look how haughtily she turns away, I’m surprised she doesn’t stick her tongue out, and now Wickham finally catches up with the rest of us, and... He persuades her to take some fresh air! Wickham is ahead one point, and the ball is in Darcy’s corner.”
He drew breath and shared an understanding look with the Comtesse.
“Very good my lord, and will you now introduce me to these your friends?”
”Certainly, this is my brother James Fitzwilliam, and his friend from America, Mr. Carleton Harrington ...”
William Darcy, very willing to be led in a merry dance by the Duke of Longbourn’s second daughter (not that he would agree to this for even a second, Mr. Darcy you see is firmly convinced that someone has to teach Lady Elizabeth Proper Manners, though he has some trouble explaining to himself just why he should be the one to teach this intriguing redhead manners, however, being a man, he can push that thought aside and focus on just how to chastise Lady Elizabeth, and now it is this Pen’s turn to draw breath), where was I, oh, yes; William Darcy was soon seen stepping out on the balcony after the Lady and her partner.
Now, to an ordinary onlooker, what he saw would simply be a lady looking out into the night, her thoughts obviously on Her Absent Love, and a man desperately trying to get her attention, and desperate enough to take her hand in his (she hasn’t noticed, being busy imagining kissing Mr. Darcy) and this ordinary onlooker would probably also notice things like the bright moon and the humming of... things that hum in the night, and that it is also quite a cold evening.
This is not what Mr. Darcy saw (though I will admit to his becoming worried that Lady Elizabeth might take a chill), what Mr. Darcy saw was That Creep Wickham Taking Liberties, that’s what Mr. Darcy saw, and so he shouted manfully:
“Unhand her, villain!” at least that was what he meant to say, but general opinion is that he merely growled (in a manly sort of way), making the two on the balcony start and turn around.
Now I must tell you about Lady Elizabeth. In the last few days, almost all her sisters (sweet Jane was the exception) had taken pains telling her that Mr. Darcy would never speak with her again, and probably marry Caroline Bingham just to spite her, and she would have to become a spinster or a nun (this last was Lady Elizabeth’s own idea, her sisters would laugh themselves silly trying to imagine Elizabeth as a nun despite their Dear, Departed Mother being a proper Roman Catholic) and pine away for that silly, silly wonderful man et cetera. (Feel free, Dear Reader, to imagine all sorts of romantic daydreams about Mr. Darcy here.)
Anyway, she was awoken from her horrid/lovely daydreams by the manly cry of Mr. Darcy (I think she heard ‘Unhand her, villain’, but I may be incorrect, there are some things about a manly growl that makes a woman’s heart go all soppy and faint) and lo and behold, there he was.
Can you blame her for going all weak in the knees at the sight of Mr. Darcy, fire in his eyes?
She had this sudden urge to faint into his arms in that special way Caroline Bingham had practised to perfection, but being somewhat restrained by Lord Wickham’s firm hold on her arm (he suddenly dared this!) she was content with looking at William Darcy with love and admiration in her eyes, her back brain meanwhile rehearsing several ways in which to accept his new proposal.
Alas, this was not to be. Had William Darcy been a woman, I am sure he would have noticed Elizabeth’s countenance and proposed there and then (this would also have ensured a permanent victory over Lord Wickham), but Darcy was too intent on his rival (except that he still worried about Lady Elizabeth taking a chill) that he didn’t take advantage over her sudden weakness and took command over the Little Woman. (Though short in stature, this remark would Not Have Pleased Lady Elizabeth once she woke from her pink daze i.e. hormones galore.)
Darcy was undecided whether to challenge Wickham to a duel, or beat him into a bloody pulp right there and then, but, being a Man of Words (remember that he is a promising young politician) he simply stared at Wickham with Wrath in his eyes. It can be very disconcerting when a Man of Words simply shuts up once in a while. Not what you, or Wickham for that matter, would expect.
Wickham took off, in fear of that silent Look, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy alone (they didn’t notice the seventy – six persons in the ballroom, staring at them).
Elizabeth turned her lovely little face towards his, all prepared to surrender and, well, call herself His Little Woman (for tonight, anyway) and be all sweet and feminine.
She was met by this really off – putting look of contempt, making him look remarkably like his Aunt Catherine de Bourgh.
“Have you no decency?” he lectured, “behaving like a...”
Here he had to pause and think of a word that wasn’t too horrible, like harlot, or fallen woman or... or lovely, sweet angel, my heart, love of my life, peach et cetera, anyway I think his back brain kicked in somewhere around there and sent him express mail about the loving way she had of looking at him, almost an invitation to call her His Little Woman, really.
Too bad William Darcy’s back brain was slow on the uptake. Lady Elizabeth now wore a completely different look, a look of Righteous Anger masking a Broken Heart, and she didn’t give his back brain a chance to catch up as she swept past the MP for Derbyshire and left the ball.
“Well, at least she didn’t slap him,” said Lady Jane.
Meanwhile, Lord James Fitzwilliam asked Lady Mary Bennet to dance. People noticed he made her laugh several times.
Part Four
The Honourable Aloysius Bennet Collins, distant cousin of His Grace the Duke of Longbourn, and heir to the same, had long lived in Kent with his Godmother Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Mr. Darcy's Aunt, no less.
However, encouraged by his patroness, and the fact that the Duke wasn't getting any younger, Mr. Collins had decided to spend this very Season in London, for the dual purpose of getting acquainted with his relations, and finding a suitable wife.
And Mr. Collins was not one to make much of an effort; he intended to marry one of the Bennet sisters and acquire a wife of the highest pedigree without even having to leave the house! Lady Catherine would be so proud of him, and Mr. Collins did think that Longbourn would also be happy to have a daughter married and off his hands.Mr. Collins arrived at Sloane Square nr 10 just after luncheon, bringing with him several large suitcases.
"Good Lord, you'd think he was to stay permanently!" Lady Lydia shouted to her sisters, stationed as she was by the window to get a proper look at this new cousin. "Not even Caroline Bingham travels in such style!"
Lady Katherine rushed to her sister's side. The three older sisters tried to act more composed.
"Well," said Lady Mary, "what does he look like?"
"Why," laughed Lady Lydia, "he's the spitting image of Lizzie's Mr. Darcy!"
"What?" cried Lady Elizabeth and ran to the window. But when her eyes fell on the man walking slowly towards the front door, she found nothing of the handsome MP's dark good looks in her cousin. Mr. Collins was on the short side, and quite fat, with thin hair carefully arranged on his head, and a very red face.
"Lydia, you tease! He's nothing like Mr. Darcy!"
"No, he's quite ugly," piped up Lady Katherine.
"Kitty!" Lady Jane admonished, rising. "You should not care of his looks, what matters is his personality."
"Indeed," said Lady Elizabeth, straightening her dress, "good looks will never improve a sour disposition." Her sisters knew of whom she was thinking, and sighed collectively.
"You have Darcy on your brain," lectured Lady Mary, "and..."
But the doors to the tea - room opened, and the Duke entered with his guest.
"Mr. Collins, here are all my daughters waiting to meet you." The Duke waved in the direction of Jane, who stepped forward. Mr. Collins immediately folded himself into an elaborate bow, not forgetting to take a peek at her generous bosom.
"And this must be Lady Jane, your eldest!" said Mr. Collins, "Such a beautiful young lady, indeed. Lady Jane, I do hope you will serve as my guide here in London, and allow me to escort you everywhere."
The Duke, not normally a very perceptive father, none the less frowned a little at this speech.
"She is Lady Jane Bingley, nowadays, Mr. Collins, and quite busy with her own home, so you will have to rely on my other daughters for that."
Mr. Collins straightened hurriedly.
"And where is your husband, Madam? I hope he does not leave you without his protection, as I have found women quite incapable of taking care of anything on their own, that is, young women. My Dear Patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, is of course very capable, but while you certainly should aspire to reach her level of competence, that is not something that can be expected from such young ladies as yourselves."
This statement, in a very firm voice, was met with stunned silence from his cousins. Lady Jane recovered first, conscious of Lady Mary's red face and silently shaking shoulders, and Lady Elizabeth's furious looks.
"My husband will join us shortly, Mr. Collins. Meanwhile, this is my sister Elizabeth, my sister Mary, my sister Katherine, and my sister Lydia." Mr. Collins greeted them all, especially Lady Elizabeth, not missing an appraisal of her fine bosom.
"You have the loveliest daughters," he remarked to his host, "Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself could find no fault with them."
"And why," began Lady Elizabeth, "would Lady Catherine..." but her sisters all recognised a possible eruption, and hurriedly they all began talking, drowning their sisters voice.
“Papa, why don’t we show Mr. Collins the Park, this lovely afternoon...?”
“Mr. Collins, you must tell us more about your dear patroness...”
“Oh, Papa! Can we not take a drive?”
“Papa, why don’t you show Mr. Collins your library?”
The Duke staggered under this heavy assault.
“Now, girls, I have business to attend to. You take Mr. Collins for a drive, Elizabeth, and we’ll all meet for dinner.”
“Me?” cried out Lady Elizabeth. “But I’m due in Parliament!”
“Due in Parliament?” snorted Mr. Collins. “Women have no place there! Surely, Cousin, you mean to say you are going to meet a lady friend of yours outside Parliament.”
“No! Mr. Collins, we are going to chain ourselves to the gates!”
“What on Earth for?”
“For the sake of the Vote, of course!”
Indeed, this goal had lately been of the highest importance for Lady Elizabeth, surpassing even the Struggle for Widows and Orphans. Mr. Darcy, that promising young politician, certainly had something to do with it, as Lady Elizabeth had realised her side of their arguments only reached the salons of the ton, but his, the Prime Minister and Parliament. Unfair!Mr. Collins was shocked speechless. A bluestocking, and his own Cousin, at that! No, that did not match; a bluestocking was someone dressed in men’s clothes, ugly and with a dirty mouth; his cousin was a Duke’s daughter, and this one in particular so very edibly feminine and... equipped. It did not take long for Mr. Collins to imagine how he would rescue this cousin of his from those horrid women and be rewarded with her hand.
“Enough, Elizabeth, take your cousin for a drive.” The Duke exited, not inclined to listen to his daughter’s politics. Somewhere in his back brain, Longbourn already had his second daughter paired with that promising young politician, Darcy. Yes, the very man for her: a politician!
The Duke attended the Lords once a year, to give the same speech about tax – relief for Irish property, a speech duly applauded but never attended to.In a huff, Lady Elizabeth stormed out, calling to her dogs and the nearest footman. Her phaeton was brought, she grabbed the reins, waited impatiently for her cousin to climb on, making room for Katherine thought three really was a crowd, and away they went.
Additional sisters, quite forgotten, shrugged and pitied poor Katherine, being as she were between the rock and the hard place, Scylla and Charybdis, the immovable object and the irresistible force, Lady Elizabeth and Mr. Collins. Though actually, Mr. Collins was really in the middle (and that lecherous man didn’t mind at all). Poor Katherine was in danger of falling off, unless she clutched Mr. Collins’ broad back.
Aloysius Bennet Collins was not a man easily diverted. Frantically clutching at seat and backrest, simultaneously being clutched by Lady Katherine, he started berating Lady Elizabeth for not behaving...
“...Like a daffodil, my dear Cousin, a sweet flower clinging to the firm ground that is Man.”
Lady Elizabeth threw him a scornful look.
“Like Kitty clings to you just now, you mean? Heavens, Kitty, try to sit up straight or we shall turn over and die horrible deaths just outside Parliament!”
They were just then passing that Noble Building, and Elizabeth, reminded of someone, whipped her horses, possibly in hope of running over some promising young politician.
The horses, being the lady’s own, were used to sometimes racing recklessly through Hyde Park, and so quite comfortable with the high speed, but suddenly Mr. Collins decided that words were not enough for this Wild Woman, and so he brushed off Kitty’s little hands, lurched towards Elizabeth’s inviting cleavage, attempting to smother her with manly kisses (he was in a hurry to find his bride, Lady Catherine wanted them to join her in Bath) and make her... well, basically turn her into a daffodil.
This action had several consequences. Lady Katherine, already in a precarious position, only trough a majestic feat of not – yet – invented gymnastics, managed to fall backwards when released from Mr. Collins, and not sideways and down. She clung to the backrest with one hand, one leg outside the phaeton, screaming for dear life.
Mr. Collins’ lurch made the already unstable vehicle now grossly unbalanced, even if the weight of Lady Katherine somewhat evened out this imbalance. And Lady Elizabeth, suddenly burdened with an assault that she had to fight off, while driving, lost all sight due to Mr. Collins' arm, which, on its way to her bosom, lost itself and smacked into her face. And then,
a motor – car appeared,
a horn honked wildly,
and the English nobility had something to talk about for the rest of the Century.Lady Elizabeth was an excellent horsewoman, no doubt about it. And she knew her way about London. So when she heard the frantic horn, she, still blinded, somehow got her horses to cut to the left, narrowly avoiding the motor – car, careen into the huge private estate that lay there, run towards the house, circle the deep pond decorating the front lawn, and neatly dropping Lady Katherine into it.
At that point, Mr. Collins had managed to let go of his unwilling prey, leaving her to only having to manage her frightened horses, and after several turns around the pond she managed to halt them.
Three well – dressed men running towards the pond to try to be of assistance were then treated to the sight of Lady Elizabeth turning on her cousin, shouting:
“You odious, odious man!”
slapping him soundly in the face twice, and then she dealt him a vicious kick in the nether regions. Mr. Collins doubled and fell out of the carriage and into the pond, generously splashing his cousin Katherine.
The three men were now by the pond, and the tallest of them didn’t even glance at the spectacle of Mr. Collins, but instead came to Lady Elizabeth’s side, bowing.
“Lady Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, “Welcome to Pemberley.”
Elizabeth’s face turned all white, and she fainted into his arms.
Part Five
The gentlemen, who turned out to be Mr. Darcy, Lord James Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Carleton Harrington, the American, were naturally more concerned with the ladies than with Mr. Collins. Darcy swept Lady Elizabeth into his arms, and declined all assistance with his burden, leaving Harrington and Fitzwilliam to tend to Lady Katherine.
Katherine suddenly found herself aided by a strong, manly arm, and she looked up and into a pair of blue eyes. And she blushed.
Mr. Harrington was speechless for a minute, and then he whispered:"You really have beautiful eyes, you know."
Kitty quite forgot that she was standing in a pond, all wet and cold, clinging to the arm of an unknown man. She laughed, and found her voice:
"Beautiful eyes? Gentlemen usually talk about my beautiful hair, not my beautiful eyes."
"Oh, your hair is quite spectacular, even wet and all messed up, but it's nothing compared to those sparkling eyes... What gentlemen would that be?"
“Oh, no one important,” she said breathlessly, lost in his eyes.
At this point, Mr. Harrington was very near to making a horrible social faux – pas, as he really longed to kiss the redhead clinging to him, but a snickering voice brought him back to his senses.
“Really, Harrington, maybe this isn’t the time for conversation.” Lord James had once again found the Bennet sisters to be a constant source of enjoyment, especially seeing as how all men acted like morons around them.
“Oh!” Said both Katherine and Harrington, and then they blushed, like lovers do when they say the same things at the same time.
“I...”
“Will you...”
“Oh, I’m sorry...”
“No, pardon me...”
“That is...”
They would probably have remained in the pond for quite some time, stuttering, if Lord James hadn’t impatiently dragged them out and pushed them towards the house. He meant to follow them, but a small splash interrupted his step.
He turned, and saw Mr. Collins trying to climb out of the pond, wet and covered in green, slimy, things.Lord James grovelled.
How come his friend and cousin got to rescue pretty redheads and he was stuck with fat, frog – looking men who couldn’t climb out of ponds by themselves? Sighing, he did his duty, wishing Mr. Collins was Lady Mary Bennet.
The inhabitants of Pemberley were gathered in the drawing – room, awaiting the doctor’s judgement on Lady Elizabeth’s condition. Mr. Darcy was pacing the room, followed by Miss Bingham, the heiress, a strong admirer of the politician. Lord James, Mr. Harrington, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst (she was Miss Bingham’s sister), sat in anxious anticipation. Lady Katherine was with her sister and the doctor.
“Silly, silly woman,” said Caroline Bingham to Mr. Darcy, “thinking she could drive like a man.”
“Lady Elizabeth is an excellent driver, Miss Bingham. A very accomplished young lady.”
“Accomplished? Really? And can she draw, Mr. Darcy, and dance all the modern dances, and play the piano and sing and be a hostess? For that is my definition of an accomplished young lady.”
“Then my sister is not accomplished, Miss Bingham, for she sings horribly and you can never tell what it is she is portraying on the canvas. However, I am not convinced your definition of accomplishment is shared by everyone... Am I wrong, Mr. Darcy?”
The gentlemen all arose at the sound of this new voice, coming from the door. It was indeed Lady Mary Bennet, Lady Lydia hovering behind her.
Mr. Darcy bowed to her, answering:
“No indeed, Lady Mary, I find a woman who can speak her own mind, who aspires to learn as much as possible, and who can think on her feet, the most accomplished.” He smiled tenderly as he said this, thinking about his lady – love.
Lady Mary entered, throwing a smile at Lord James.
“Since you all seem to have the ability to discuss such things as the accomplishments of young ladies, I take it our sisters are well?”
“Doctor Adams is with your sister Elizabeth now,” answered Mr. Darcy, “but she was coming to when I left her. Lady Katherine is unhurt, merely... wet.”
“Yes,” giggled Lady Lydia, “we saw the pond, Mr. Darcy.”
“And where, pray, is our unfortunate cousin? Lord James’ note assured us he was not left in the pond.” Lady Mary’s voice was slightly mocking.
Mr. Darcy threw his cousin a dark look.
“I merely wrote down what had passed, cousin!” Lord James threw up his hands, the very picture of innocence.
“Mr. Collins is asleep in the library, Lady Mary.”
At this point, Lady Katherine entered the room, followed by the doctor. The sisters embraced.
“How is she?” asked a pale Darcy.
“She merely fainted from the stress, sir, and she is unhurt but for her bruised hands, burned from the reins.”
Mr. Darcy looked as if he would like to run up to the lady’s room, and kiss away the hurt, but he was hindered by a loud voice.
“Darcy! Where is the fellow? And my daughters? Lizzie! Where is everyone?”
“Father!” cried out three voices. “In here!”
The Duke of Longbourn burst into the drawing – room.
“Darcy! What have you done to my Lizzie? Aren’t you supposed to take care of her? Come to think of it, you haven’t married her yet, have you? So what is she doing in your bed?”
Darcy turned beet – red, but that sight was surpassed by the loud shriek and accompanying faint of Miss Bingham. Lady Mary didn’t even try to quell her snorting.
But then the young politician showed why he was considered promising, as he straightened and told the Duke (ignoring that very last sentence of the Duke’s):
“Your Grace, I have tried my best, but your daughter has a mind of her own.”
“Don’t I know it!” said the Duke, nodding his head. “But then she shouldn’t be in your bed!”
“Papa!” cried Kitty, “I am sure the note Lord James wrote said no such thing!”
Everyone looked accusingly at Fitzwilliam.
“I thought I could move things along if His Grace suspected...” grinned Lord James. The Duke shrugged regretfully.
“If only it had been the truth! Then they would be well on their way to Gretna Green by now!”
At this, Miss Bingham, who was just trying to stand up, aided by her sister, fainted noisily again. Meanwhile, the Duke and Lord James were exchanging manly backslaps and encouraging noises.
“ENOUGH!” shouted Mr. Darcy suddenly. “This will not do! My feelings are not to be bandied about in the drawing – room, be you her father or my cousin or not! Lady Katherine, please take me to your sister, and everyone who accompanies us must behave properly, or I will have their heads!”
He left the room, Lady Katherine meekly at his heels (and Mr. Harrington on her heels, for the only reason that they were her heels) and left a stunned Duke behind.“Well! Elizabeth’s husband has a temper, I’ll say that about him.”
“He’s not going to be her husband if you meddle in their affairs, Papa,” chided lady Lydia.
“Fine fellow, that Darcy,” nodded the Duke distractedly, and then he couldn’t keep an interest in his daughter’s affairs of the heart anymore.
“But why the deuce has he got women lying all over the place?” he exclaimed, noticing Miss Bingham prostate on the floor. “I should think it enough to have to keep up with Elizabeth!”
Part Six
Lady Elizabeth awoke from a short nap, and found her hand claimed by someone professing her his ardent love and admiration.
Too bad it wasn’t Mr. Darcy.
She yelped when she realised it was her horrible cousin Collins.
“Let go of me!” she cried.
But he, back wired as his brain was, only took the cry as permission to further his advances, something that was a lot easier now that they were not clinging to the narrow seat of her phaeton, and he launched himself at her, previous experience telling him you had to really take hold of a woman if you wanted her to succumb.
“Nnigh!” she cried, trying to avoid his lips, and wriggling away from his embrace.
She ran towards the door, halting before it (this was when he had the dawning insight that if only he’d locked the door, she couldn’t have gotten away, but, curses! he hadn’t thought of it), anyway she turned back to him, intending to really give him a peace of her mind (and a thorough slap) but, when she beheld the weird look in his eyes, she reneged on that and instead ran out the door... straight into a pair of strong arms and all sorts of Male Protection (i.e. Mr. Darcy).
Leaving Lady Elizabeth in Darcy’s strong arms (let them enjoy it while they can, and trust this Pen, they are enjoying it), we return to Mr. Darcy’s drawing – room, which by now was full of eccentric people.
Mr. Hurst, a drinker, gambler, but hardly a womaniser, was helping himself to Darcy’s fine brandy, and enjoying the silence. Mr. Hurst thought people like Mr. Darcy, Lady Elizabeth, and his sister – in – law Caroline Bingham, were much too loud, and one of his dreams was that Mr. Darcy would marry one or the other of the women, no preference, only it would make his life quieter.
Mrs. Hurst was trying to wake her sister, but it seemed as if she really had fainted the last time, and so she was unresponsive to say the least.
Lady Mary and Lord James were laughing in a corner, unaware that the Duke and Lady Lydia were watching them closely. The Duke was humming.
Then, BANG!, the door flew up and a massive woman entered the room, trailed by what appeared to be a thin shadow, but was in reality a second woman. The Duke stared.
“Lady Catherine?” he said, disbelievingly. “I thought you dead!” which wasn’t very polite but then the Duke hadn’t heard from her in ages.
“I shall never die, Lucas,” she assured him, sending chills down the spines of everyone assembled (indeed, one floor up, Mr. Collins felt the chill down his spine. Lady Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy merely felt, well, thrills, and for a very different reason).
“But, enough chit – chat, “ her eyes swept the room, “ why is there a woman on my nephew’s carpet? And Fitzwilliam, why have you not visited with your Aunt yet? But, most importantly, where is Darcy?”
“Why this unexpected visit, Aunt Catherine?” asked Fitzwilliam.
“I have come for him!” she announced, setting off the most horrible associations in everyone’s minds, “...to make sure he marries my daughter, Anne!”
Caroline Bingham, at long last awake thanks to the chilling of her spine, cried out in horror and fainted once more.
There was a general feeling that she had taken the easy way out.
Meanwhile, upstairs William Darcy had automatically put his arms around Lady Elizabeth, his brain simultaneously wanting to
A) upbraid her for wearing only a shift and her with her hair out too!
B) tell her she looked like a million dollars
C) hug her a little tighter (i.e. cop a feel)
D) upbraid her for letting her horrid cousin into her room
but he settled for E) just enjoying having her clinging to him. Well, that was until he registered what Collins was actually saying:“Come now, Lizzie, don’t toy with me! You know we are to be married, and if you will just let me near you, I will show you Heaven! Admit that you feel for me as I feel for you, only you find me even more attractive than I find you!”
“No!” shouted Elizabeth, safe in the arms of Darcy (well, by now she would feel perfectly safe even were he to let go of her, actually she was only trying to cop a feel).
“I don’t know wherever you got the idea of us marrying! In fact, you haven’t even proposed!”
“Oh? Well that...”
“No thank you, that won’t be necessary!” cried Lady Elizabeth and Darcy at the same time.
Had they been Lady Katherine and Mr. Harrington, they would have blushed and exchanged a love struck look, but they were more advanced by now, re – aligning their brains to the same thought patterns, having their hearts beat simultaneously, that sort of thing.“In fact, I would prefer it if you left my house!” said Darcy.
“Indeed!” said Elizabeth.
“And good riddance!”
“Indeed again!”
“In fact, Adieu is not too strong a word on this occasion!”
“Hear, hear!” shouted Elizabeth, sounding just like the Opposition on a good day in Parliament.
Mr. Darcy looked at her in awe: his soul mate! And Elizabeth felt a strong wish to become a very special promising young politician’s foremost supporter, staunchest ally, and dearest opponent.“Madam Speaker!” said he lovingly, foreshadowing an event far away in the future of British Politics.
“My most honourable gentleman of Derbyshire!” sighed she, resting her red curls on his broad chest.
Mr. Collins slunk past them, down the stairs: a beaten man.
He passed Lady Katherine and Mr. Harrington, who had stopped somewhere near the middle of the stairs and were now talking about what he thought was motor – cars, and she dressmakers, but really only letting their pent – up hormones loose.
Part Seven
Silence reigned in the drawing – room.
Everyone but Miss Bingham and her sister had been convinced Darcy would marry, eventually, Lady Elizabeth Bennet. Caroline Bingham and Louisa Hurst were certain that Darcy would marry Caroline. After all, her father supported Darcy’s Party, and the Duke of Longbourn didn’t. Caroline pictured herself as a campaign – contribution, you might say. Sort of like a living trust fund, there for her husband’s convenience.
Needless to say, while Elizabeth would give away her last penny to Widows, Orphans, Bluestockings, and Sunnybrook, Home for Auld Horses, she thought it immoral to donate to politicians.
It’s been a while since Mr. Darcy cared whether Lady Elizabeth thought him immoral (she didn’t; but she thought politicians in general could be considered so), nowadays he just wanted to kiss her.But enough about Miss Caroline Bingham, as we see she is now quite outdone by Lady Elizabeth and Anne de Bourgh, two ladies with much better claims on Mr. Darcy. This Pen is just fond of torturing Caroline.
So, Lady Catherine had just announced her intention of claiming Darcy for her thin, but Noble, daughter. However, she would encounter a formidable opponent: the Duke of Longbourn, a man she casually refers to as ‘Lucas’!
“Hold your horses, Catherine!” cried the Duke, “William Darcy will not marry your pale (though Noble) daughter! I have a daughter with a previous claim on him!”
“A previous claim?”
“Indeed! For I have always wanted to unite the Noble Houses of Darcy – Fitzwilliam and Bennet!”
“But your wife was an Irish wench! Shall her red hair and Catholic Temper for ever pollute the Shades of Pemberley?”
The Duke raised his chin.
“Pollute, indeed! I reckon the time has come to tell the truth, Catherine! The truth of my wife’s ancestry!”
Everyone held their breaths. What sordid tale would now be revealed?
“My dear Margaret was the half – sister of your Lewis!”
“I knew it!” cried Lady Catherine de Bourgh, “ I knew Margaret was a bastard! There was always some secret kept behind all that red hair!”
“No, indeed not! Margaret was Charles de Bourgh’s daughter in his second, secret, marriage, to Mary McLintick!”
Lady Catherine gasped.
“McLintick, heiress of Tara? Owner of, well, a lot of Ireland?”
“That’s right! And,” the Duke turned to his daughters, “now you know why I constantly fight for tax – relief on Irish property!”
General applause broke out. Had Darcy had a curtain in his drawing – room, it would have fallen. To the left and right, ladies were crying, and Lady Mary was so happy she embraced Lord James. The Duke hummed. It was victory for the Bennets, and everyone knew it.
“Why, I could never refuse dear Lewis’ half – sister’s second daughter her chance of happiness, if her mother really was born legitimate!”
“As legit as you or I!” promised the Duke, and the combatants shook on it.
At that point, a dishevelled Mr. Collins passed the door to the drawing – room, on his way out. Lady Catherine roped him in, probably using her psychic abilities.
“Well, then, Mr. Collins, I see no other solution than for you to marry my Anne. You can’t complain, this will give you both Longbourn and Rosings, and my Anne will someday be a Duchess, which is finer than being a mere (even if young and promising) politician’s wife.”
Mr. Collins looked at the woman shadowed by the mountain that was Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She was on the thin side, and had really no bosom at all, but her face was comely and she was rich. And related to Lady Catherine. And he wouldn’t have to move very far.
Aloysius Bennet Collins smiled.“Certainly My Lady,” he bowed.
Lady Catherine smiled.
Anne smiled.
And smiled.
And smiled.
And then, when Mr. Collins began to feel that she smiled a little bit too much for the occasion, Anne walked up to him, suddenly producing a book.“I hope you read from the Book, husband.”
“The... oh, the Bible, yes, certainly.”
“So do I. And I think you should know that I live by it, too.”
“Really? Well, that is... that is certainly very good.”
“Isn’t it? And now we both shall live by it.”
“Indeed, Anne,” beamed Lady Catherine. “You do realise, Mr. Collins, that this means you will live like brother and sister, keeping yourselves Pure for the Afterlife?”
“Brother and sister?”
“Lewis and I did, you know. Anne is of course adopted. And no drinking, Mr. Collins. Prayer and cold showers, that is the way to do it.”
Mr. Collins broke out in a sweat. Anne smiled and smiled, her eyes alight.
“Come now, Brother. We have a licence to procure.”
Mr. Aloysius Bennet Collins was led away.
Back outside Lady Elizabeth’s room (which, incidentally, was not Mr. Darcy’s bedroom, however much he would have liked it to be), two people were slowly circling around the Issue of Marriage: both were brought up to think one ought to have some conversation before a Proposal.
Preferably, some deep conversation on a soul – searching topic, so that one could brag to all one’s friends that one married for the sake of the Soul and not just, well, money.“So,” said Mr. Darcy lightly, “I suppose your father was looking to marry off another daughter.”
Lady Elizabeth laughed a little.
“I suppose. And how is your sister?”
“She is fine, her health was never better.”
“Only I had heard she was saddened Lord Wickham left Derbyshire.”
He stiffened somewhat.
“No doubt your great friend Lord Wickham told you this.”
“He is, indeed, my friend, though he tells me he was once unfortunate enough to lose your friendship.” Her voice was almost sharp now.
“Well, Lord Wickham’s manners ensure that he can make friends easily, if he can keep them is another matter.”
“And your friendship, once lost, is lost forever?”
“Now, Elizabeth, you think that a faithful portrait of me...” he shouted.
“I must not decide on my own performance,” she huffed.
“Well, you’d do well to reconsider, as no matter how high your fathers stands, there is the issue about your mother...” he blurted, angrily. “Remember that before you criticize my sister!”
“Criticize...! I merely...! Why, you...! And here I thought...!” Lady Elizabeth shouted, thus proving that the two of them could never last ten minutes without arguing.
“I was right! And so was Wickham! You hate everyone, don’t you?”
“I do not! You wilfully misunderstand me! I am only trying to make polite conversation!” he screamed.
“Oh, keep your breath to cool your porridge!” she shouted and pushed past him. “Never speak to me again!”
She left him there, angrily staring at the spot she had just vacated, rushed down the stairs, grabbing Katherine on her way (not even noticing Mr. Harrington), and only pausing in her furious way to scream into the drawing – room:
“We’re leaving NOW!”, making everyone inside jump.
Lady Elizabeth left Pemberley, trailing a group of confused Bennets, two of whom were desperately shouting:
“Come for tea tomorrow!” to two different young men.
Part Eight
The Bennets spent a few days in peace, everyone giving Lady Elizabeth a wide berth, monotony only interrupted by the proposal of Carleton Harrington to Lady Katherine.
When all her sisters had accepted him (even Elizabeth, though she did attempt to make Kitty realise the wonder of being an Independent woman), he asked her father for her hand in marriage, and it was duly given.
Kitty was proud to become the wife of one of the few owners of a motor – car in England. She never found an opportunity to tell Elizabeth it was his motor – car that had nearly got them all killed.Elizabeth refused all invitations for another week, but her sisters didn’t, and Lady Mary shocked the ton by always standing about in corners, whispering with James Fitzwilliam. Lady Lydia said to inquiries they were only conspiring, but she said she had no idea what exactly they were up to.
Then, one morning, Lady Elizabeth was once again seen mingling with the crowds in Hyde Park, this time on horseback. She was in the company of the Lady Mary, who wore a most peculiar smile.
The ladies received many admiring looks, but it was noted that Lady Elizabeth seemed somewhat dispirited.Not so Lady Mary. If Lady Hamilton's ball last night had lacked the presence of both Lady Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, other things had occurred there, worthy of much gossip.
Why, Lady Mary had danced no less than four times with Lord James Fitzwilliam. And he so recently returned from the Continent, the ladies of the ton had had such a short time to reacquaint themselves with him!Lady Mary wanted them to go down a certain path, and Lady Elizabeth was in no mood to argue. She was almost meek, in fact. Probably due to her recent lack of a good argument.
But lo! Suddenly two riders appeared before the ladies, and the gentlemen were no others but James Fitzwilliam... and Mr. Darcy! All, crowded by the narrow path, and being the polite creatures their Nannies had brought them up to be, dismounted.
Lady Mary was most gracious, but Lady Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy at once began staring at each other, eyes dark with fury.
"Isn't it a lovely day, Lord James," Lady Mary remarked.
"Indeed, Lady Mary, I was just telling my cousin all it lacked were two lovely ladies, and there you were!"
"Flatterer! Elizabeth, do you not have something to say to the gentlemen?"
Lady Elizabeth only glared at Mr. Darcy. He glared right back.
"It seems our relations are occupied with other matters, milord."
"So I gather, Lady Mary. Would you do me the honour of granting me a few words in private? I think our friends here can amuse themselves for awhile. It looks as though they have quite forgotten our presence."
Lady Mary and Lord James walked a ways, and then stopped and looked at the still - unmoving couple.
"Do you really think this will work, milord? What if she slaps him again?"
"I don't think she will, Mary. I told him once and for all to do as I said, and listen to the advice you gave him a long while ago; just kiss her. Sometimes, you just have to take action and then see what happens."
And indeed, the couple kept staring into each other's eyes, but somehow the looks of anger turned into something else, and then, Mr. Darcy let go of his horse and gathered the proud Lady Elizabeth in his arms, and they were kissing.
Mary was anxious too see if Elizabeth would slap him silly, when he let go of her, but somehow he never did let go of her. When the younger sister finally observed one feminine hand passionately stroking Mr. Darcy's dark curls, she let out a content sigh and looked at her companion."It seems our plan succeeded, James. My headstrong sister and your stubborn cousin are finally to be married, or else they have to flee the country for Indecent Behaviour in a Public Park. When did you develop these skills, worthy of Cupid?"
"Skills? Why, dear Mary, I only advised William to do as I wished to do myself. Though I admit to being a coward; I used my cousin for a guinea - pig. It seems to be working for him, which is promising."
"I'm afraid I don't follow, James. Do you wish to kiss Elizabeth?"
"Kiss Elizabeth? No, my dear... not Elizabeth."
And then he really looked at her, and Lady Mary, who always laughed, didn't. She was busy being swept off her feet.
And so two Bennet sisters were seen kissing in Hyde Park that day.
It was declared no mean feat by His Grace the Duke of Longbourn, to manage to betroth no less than three daughters in the space of a week. Many mothers found him to be a virtual Paragon, and it also followed that he himself was much courted for a while. He declined to take a second wife, however, staying true to the memory of the lady that had brought him half of Ireland.
Mr. Darcy, as told by James and Mary Fitzwilliam, ensured he would rule the day when he refused to let go of his future wife until she had said yes at least ten times in a very loud voice, allowing most of London to hear it.
Mr. Darcy was better safe than sorry, so to speak (certainly Elizabeth made him feel sorry for embarrassing her in public, but that was later).Mary’s acceptance came much quieter, on the way home to Sloane Square, under cover of an argument between Darcy and Elizabeth over the best church to be wed in. The quarrelling couple were later mortified to discover the attachment between sister and cousin, and both confessed to actually having no recollection of neither James nor Mary being in Hyde Park at the time.
Lady Mary and Lord James forgave them, on condition they could decide what church they would be married in. Half of Ireland or not, the Duke preferred to marry off his three daughters at once, thus saving himself a pretty penny.Epilogue
And so, this story is at an end, but this Pen cannot withhold some information from its Dear Readers:
Captain and Lady Jane Bingley lived very happily together, and had five children, all sons, and all redheads. They were like their parents, mild and kind, a true blessing, for while foul tempers are very charming in red - haired women and something of a necessity for promising young politicians, they are not recommended combined with redheaded young men.
Lady Katherine was very content with her Carleton Harrington, and she persuaded him to spend most of their lives in England, keeping her close to her sisters and ensuring that her many children learned Proper Manners (not from their Aunt Elizabeth, though) and married well.
Lady Lydia married no less than four times, and all her husbands were Lords or Dukes and died happily out of exhaustion, except number four who managed to actually keep up with her. Lady Lydia’s many sons and daughters ensured that the British Nobility would never suffer a lack of noble redheads, as all fourteen of them married well.
Lady Mary was deliriously happy with Lord James Fitzwilliam, and all of their children attended Oxford, to the delight of their parents.
Lady Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy (later Lord Darcy of Pemberley) were madly in love and, following tradition, quarrelled constantly. But at least she had stopped slapping him, much to the relief of the ton.
Lady Mary very sensibly told them they should not quarrel in bed, as that prevented them from having children. But Lady Elizabeth and Lord Darcy never did stop quarrelling, and so had no children, not that they noticed really.FINIS
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