Epilogue

Christmas Day One Year Later

Mary slipped her arm through Nicholas’ as they stood at the door of Rosemoore watching Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s carriage makes its way down the driveway as soft snowflakes began to fall. “You have made my mother and sisters very happy. My father might not forgive you, however.”

“Nor will Fred and Whit, I imagine.” He smiled broadly at the thought. Although Fred and Whit had not contrived to endanger either life, limb, or education, they had managed to aggravate Nicholas on more than one occasion over the last year. If their refusal to travel to Bath and instead insisting upon tip-toeing about Rosemoore being conspicuously inconspicuous, coupled with their suggestions about early bedtimes last Christmas had not been enough. Fred had written several times after returning to school with suggestions about which room would make the best nursery and what names he preferred for a niece or nephew. Nicholas had expected the matter to be silenced once he had written telling Fred that an addition was expected to arrive near Michaelmas. However, that news had only made matters worse. For then, whenever there was any break in classes, Fred would find his way to Rosemoore and insist that Nicholas was not caring well enough for his wife. What do you mean she can carry that tray?  His brother would scold.  She might trip. A walk? To where? Are you certain that it allowable? He would question. It was as if his brother, who was not yet five and twenty, had turned into a nattering old woman. He chuckled. It was not unlike Mrs. Bennet.

“It will be a quiet few months, however,” Mary said with a smile. Her mother had made her presence known both at Rosemoore and Netherfield on a nearly daily basis. There were instructions on how to best arrange furniture and handle accounts, as well as ill-disguised hints about hosting parties and dinners. And then, when she had learned she was to have a grandchild — Mary shook her head. She would be thankful for even a week of peace.

“No,” Nicholas countered, “we shall still have Uncle Fred when he is not absolutely confined to school.”

Mary leaned into Nicholas’s side. “You do know he has spoken to my uncle regarding a position.”

Nicholas groaned. His brother was thinking of moving to the area? “No, he has not mentioned it. What of his time in Bath with my father before taking up his profession?”

Mary squeezed his arm. “He has reconsidered much after your accident, and there may be a particular young lady that has caught his eye. However, I am not to mention it.”

“You are keeping secrets from your husband?” Nicholas clucked his tongue.

“You know he stood up with someone at least twice at the last party at Lucas Lodge,” she hinted.

Nicholas stopped outside the drawing room where the rest of their guests were still gathered. “I thought that was to avoid your youngest sister.”

Mary giggled. “In part.” Lydia had attempted to attract Fred’s attention when it became apparent that Whit had taken a decided liking to Kitty. But she had met with little success. Fred had sworn off his impetuous ways and found that a quieter, more serene lifestyle suited him right well. Well, it did most of the time. There were limits to how serious a young man could be. However, being able to return to a peaceful home was his desire, for he had seen such at Rosemoore.

“Miss Maria is a good choice,” commented Nicholas.

“Fred is capable of making them, you know.”

“Thanks in no small part to your influence.” He bent and kissed her. Mary had been the steadying hand that Fred had needed and the soothing balm he himself had needed after dealing with his brother. With a wink and a second kiss, he led her into the drawing room, and they took their places. “Where is Whit?” Nicholas asked.

“Uncle Whit,” Darcy’s lips pursed in amusement at the moniker that Whit had insisted must be his, “has taken it upon himself to see that his niece and two nephews are well-cared for.”

“I dread to think of what he might be teaching them,” said Nicholas with a shake of his head.

“They are young,” said Elizabeth, “far too young to remember what he says. I think your daughter is safe.”

“She had better be,” muttered Fred before turning to Nicholas. “What possessed you to give my place in London to the Bennets for the season?”

“Truly?” Bingley asked in surprise. “You do not know why?”

Fred shook his head.

Bingley laughed. “We wished for a few months of quiet, and with Mrs. Bennet ensconced in London, we shall have it.”

Darcy chuckled. “You may always take an estate closer to Derbyshire.”

“We have not discounted the idea,” Bingley replied, “but until I can be free of Caroline, it is more convenient to be near London.” Thankfully, Mr. Hurst had offered to keep Caroline in town. She was more content to be there than in the country, and her prospects of marriage were greater there as well.  Bingley had found little pleasure in attending soirees after he had married.  He could not dance with his wife nearly so much as he wished and disliked watching others sweep her about the dance floor.  Thankfully, he had been able to use the arrival of his son just a month ago as a reason to sit this season out and remain at Netherfield. “Although, I have found Hammond to be an excellent guide in learning the business of an estate and may decide to stay even after Caroline is married.”

“He is not just looking in on the children,” said Fred, inserting himself into the conversation. “You have sent Miss Kitty off to be snapped up by some gentleman that is not him, and he needed a moment.”

“He is serious about Kitty?” asked Mary.

Fred nodded.

“I knew he found her interesting,” continued Mary, “but he seemed to flit and flutter with no specific design. Why did you not tell me?”

“Has he spoken to her father?” asked Darcy.

Fred chuckled. “No, but her father has spoken to him.”

“And what were the results of that conversation?” Nicholas remembered well having Mr. Bennet come to speak with him days before he and Mary married.

“Whit has written his father,” said Fred. “The estate is not yet his, you know, but there are a small cottage and a bit of land that could be his if he wished.”

“What else do you know of his situation?” asked Darcy, cocking his head and grinning at Nicholas.

Fred looked between his brother and Darcy, a smile spreading across his face. “I know that he is financially sound, and I can find out what I do not already know if you can get Mr. Bennet to write up his portion for Miss Kitty.”

“Will she accept him?” asked Mary, and then her eyes narrowed as another thought struck her, “Is this how you conspired to have Nicholas and me marry so quickly?”

“I shall do my part this time, as I did then, by obtaining the license,” said Darcy with a sheepish grin. “The rest of the plan was Whit’s.”

“The question still remains if she will accept him,” said Jane. “I should not like to see him hurt. He is a sweet man.”

“Does she like him well enough?” Darcy asked Elizabeth.

“From what I have seen, I believe she does,” Elizabeth replied, “but I shall ask her when we call at Longbourn tomorrow.”

“You are planning a Twelfth Night soiree, are you not, Bingley?” Nicholas asked.

“I am.”

Nicholas smiled and raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Broom closet or library?” he asked.

However, as events unfolded, it was neither the broom closet nor the library, but the hall outside the nursery at Netherfield where the schemer, who had done so much which had led haphazardly to happiness for Mary, was himself caught in a scheme. And as Twelfth Night ended, he became uncle, not just in name but in fact, to the many children that would over the years fill the nurseries at Netherfield, Pemberley, and Rosemoore.