while tears of joy and thankfulness filled his eyes.
Perfection was achieved a second, third, fourth, and fifth time over the years upon the births of their sons George Ellis Darcy, followed by William Robert Darcy, Richard Charles Darcy, and then Thomas Fitzwilliam Darcy.
After five perfect boys and five beautiful bouquets of roses and baby’s breath, Elizabeth finally delivered a daughter, Anne Judith Rose Darcy. The flawless baby girl had dark chestnut curls and, at least in her father’s totally unbiased opinion, the most captivating, sparkling, intelligent brown eyes ever beheld in the entire history of the entire world; and he was instantly besotted and head over heels in love. Upon Anne’s birth, Elizabeth’s chamber was filled to overflowing with Damask roses; and the tears in Darcy’s devoted eyes actually overflowed onto his cheeks that memorable day.
Despite being thrown into the path of rich and titled men, Mary Bennet happily accepted an offer of marriage from a tradesman’s son. She had long ago set her cap for young Daniel Burke, who lived across the street from the Bennet London townhouse.
Randall Candel, the Darcys’ Northumberland neighbour, did not win the hand of the lovely Anna Darcy. That honour went to Evan Gardiner, the son of another businessman.
Four years after their elder sisters had so blissfully tied the knot, Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy wed their strapping young tradesmen during a double ceremony in Pemberley’s charming chapel. Those genteel ladies, both gentlemen’s daughters, saw many changes take place in society during their lifetime; and as they reached middle and old age, those transformations and reformations became more evident. Through diligence and merit, many hard-working tradesmen, like Daniel Burke and Evan Gardiner, became extremely affluent. That wealth enabled them to purchase large tracts of property; and the upper classes finally, and begrudgingly, welcomed businessmen into the landed gentry.
George Darcy and Lady Anne invited their extended families to Pemberley every summer, and the grand estate’s manor practically burst at the seams. There were Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth with their five sons and one daughter; the Flemings and the Bingleys each had two daughters and one son; and Richard and Jane brought their boisterous blonde brood of three boys and four girls. In addition, the Bennet family often spent a week or two at the Derbyshire estate, as did the Gardiner clan, Daniel and Mary Burke, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the Earl of Matlock and his wife, and Viscount Wentletrap with his wife and son.
In the month before Bennet Darcy turned one-and-twenty, his cousin Darcy Fleming was eighteen years of age; and both Henry Fitzwilliam and Lewis Bingley were nineteen. George and Lady Anne Darcy had long ago shuffled off their mortal coils, but Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth continued the tradition of inviting friends and relatives to Pemberley during summer. It was uncommonly hot in Derbyshire that particular season, and the four attractive, virile young men spent a great deal of time swimming and kicking up a lark in Pemberley’s piddling pond. That pitiful little lake had been dredged regularly; nevertheless, the lagoon still managed to generate a healthy crop of lime- coloured slime and a particular stench during late summer.
Ella and Leanne, the lovely daughters of Georgiana and Ellis Fleming, had invited a couple dearest friends from seminary to spend August with them at Pemberley. One sultry summer afternoon the four young women took a leisurely stroll around the grounds; and when the beauty and fragrance of the august estate’s magnificent gardens had been enjoyed to everyone’s satisfaction, they decided to head toward the river and visit the pretty chapel on the manicured lawn near the tall but neatly trimmed seven-foot hedgerow. The two Flemings related the story of how their own parents had serendipitously met at that very spot and about the triple wedding that had subsequently been held in the little church. The four giggled and sighed, thinking it all quite comical yet romantic. As the ladies exited the chapel and opened their parasols against the brilliant summer sun, a bizarre image caught their astonished eyes; and they screamed.
Bennet Darcy paced back and forth in front of the elegant mahogany desk, as he alternately ran a hand agitatedly through green-tinged chestnut curls and twisted the signet ring on his pinkie finger. He had already thrown a coat over the wet cotton shirt that clung indecently to his well-developed torso, but Fitzwilliam Darcy’s eldest child’s appearance still bore little resemblance to his usual meticulous attire and grooming.
Elizabeth set aside a stack of correspondence on the writing desk that had belonged to Lady Anne and watched in amusement as her strikingly handsome son, so similar in looks and temperament to her beloved husband, continued his rant.
“I simply cannot comprehend him, Mother! I have just utterly humiliated myself out there on Pemberley’s lawn in front of four very genteel and, now, traumatized young ladies; and Father has the audacity to consider my situation to be, for some ungodly reason, absolutely, gutbustingly hilarious. I swear the deranged man is sitting in the study at this very moment actually wiping tears of laughter from his face. Has he gone completely stark raving mad?”
Elizabeth Darcy’s beautiful eyes twinkled; and she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a burgeoning impertinent smile as she replied, “Oh, Bennet dear, your father merely considers your dilemma entertaining because it is a perfect example of
Finis
J. Marie Croft
J. Marie Croft, a Nova Scotia resident and avid reader all her life, discovered Jane Austen’s works later than others but made up for lost time by devouring the six novels and as many adaptations and sequels as she could find. In the midst of reading prodigious amounts of Austen-based fan-fiction, she realized, ‘Hey, I can do that’. So now in her spare time (when not working at a music school or on a wooded trail enjoying her geocaching hobby), she listens to the voices in her head and captures their thoughts and words in writing. Her stories are light-hearted; and her motto is Miss Austen’s own quote, ‘Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery.’
J. Marie Croft is a member of the Jane Austen Society of North America (Canada) and admits to being ‘excessively attentive’ to the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice.
She can be contacted at [email protected].
Acknowledgements
Family, friends, and colleagues deserve heartfelt thanks for various reasons. From the onset, Dennis, Heather, and Jessica provided much-need support and encouragement. When my family rolled eyes, shook heads, and uttered groans, they
Readers at two Jane Austen fan-fiction websites (Derbyshire Writers Guild and A Happy Assembly) provided invaluable feedback; and although too numerous to name, those on-line friends were ultimately responsible (i.e. to blame) for this book. Author Emma Hox (
Gregory Watters has my unending gratitude for inspiration as well as for tea caddies, toddy lifters, and Regency glass. Sincere appreciation goes to Elise Besler-Harnish for enthusiasm and assistance, to Lola Doucet for advice, and to Glane Gorveatt for patience.
Finally, Mary Simonsen (author of
