Title: A Happy Accident
Rating: K+ (PG) – cuz I can't think of any reason why this should be rated higher.
Disclaimer: Though I write stories based on the novels and characters of Jane Austen, this work belongs to ME and no one else. Unless given express permission, no one besides myself has the right to distribute or profit from my intellectual property. All rights reserved.
Setting: Regency
PSA: I hope that you and yours are safe and healthy during the COVID-19 crisis. Take precautions for yourself and others and please don't hoard any goods that your family doesn't need; we're all in this together, even while we remain physically apart.

Summary: Sometimes we do not say what we mean, other times we mean what we say, but what happens when Darcy says something that he means but never meant to say to Elizabeth? Accidents are sometimes meant to happen. Regency, sweet and clean.

o0o

Epilogue: Think of the Past

October 1813

"At least someone sleeps well in the carriage," William grumbled, though there was no underlying asperity in his tone. Quite to the contrary, he spoke with great affection as he smiled softly down upon the dark curly head resting against his wife's bosom.

Elizabeth's attention was similarly riveted as she tugged a knit blanket a little higher so that it better shaded the tiny face, blocking the autumn sunlight leaking through the curtains. The little girl snuffled softly in her sleep, rubbed a chubby little fist briefly against her cheek and settled more deeply into her dreams. "If it must be one of us, I am glad that it is Nell."

"Fair enough, though it would do you some good to rest if you can. You were up half the night." William's suggestion – more of an admonishment, really – was followed by a tender kiss to Elizabeth's temple, the only part of his wife he could reach without disturbing their babe.

Elizabeth leaned into her husband's side, the infant shifting with her, and sighed with a mix of exhaustion and contentment. It was a strange combination, to be sure, but one which the relatively new parents had learned to embrace over the past twelvemonth since little Penelope Anne Darcy had come into the world. They had much help in caring for their firstborn in the form of various servants and relatives, but their decidedly opinionated Nell would only tolerate others besides her dear Mama on a limited basis. When discontent or otherwise needy, only Elizabeth's attendance would do and she would cry most piteously until reunited with her mother who would then affectionately cuddle and pamper Nell to her satisfaction. Even her devoted Papa was no substitute.

The night previous, Nell had woken sometime before midnight for reasons unknown, bawling for Elizabeth's particular brand of attention. Elizabeth had been woken by the night nurse when all other efforts to calm Nell had failed and the child had instantly calmed once she had been deposited into her mother's arms. This meant that most of the household had been allowed to go back to sleep, but that the mistress herself lost a few precious hours of repose which otherwise would have done her a world of good. However, once Nell had settled between her doting parents and fallen back into the arms of Morpheus at roughly two o'clock, the peace had resumed. Until dawn, at least.

Elizabeth nuzzled the fine curls upon the crown of her child's head and breathed deeply. There was nothing more soothing to her frazzled nerves than Nell's scent; all else paled by comparison. William's tender, affectionate treatment came close, but Nell was a piece of her, a perfect amalgamation of herself and her dear husband. She was a physical manifestation of a love which had endured much and remained strong in spite of all difficulties. To Elizabeth, her daughter was perfect, even in spite of all her imperfections. Perhaps even because of them.

After a reverent kiss to Nell's forehead, Elizabeth rested her cheek upon the soft bed of her child's hair and emitted another sigh. "There is not much point in attempting sleep for such a short trip. If we were on our way to Pemberley, I would bow to your wise advice, but we shall be at Longbourn within the hour; any sleep achieved would only be interrupted."

William shifted his arm so that it rested behind Elizabeth, wrapped loosely about her waist. His palm cupped the crest of her hip and settled there most comfortably. "Even a little might help."

"No, if there is anything I have learned since Nell was born, it is that I am only more tired when woken a half hour after falling asleep. I think it best to stay awake for the nonce," Elizabeth said, scooting deeper into her husband's embrace. She felt him squeeze her tightly for a moment in response.

"Very well. Are you looking forward to seeing your parents again? It has been quite a while since they were all at Pemberley; not since the spring for Mary's wedding."

Elizabeth quirked a little smile as she recalled the last time her nearest and dearest had all descended upon Pemberley to celebrate the nuptials of her middle sister, Mary, to the current incumbent of Kympton. Mr Winthrop was the man William had presented the parish living to upon Mr Wickham's initial refusal of it and was a much better choice than the man intended for it. He was a gentle, pious man with unassuming manners, full of forgiveness and Christian charity which he spread amongst his parishioners without even an ounce of prejudice. Mary had learned much from him about what it meant to be truly devout and, as a result, she had made fewer and fewer pedantic speeches to them all since meeting and ultimately falling in love with him. For his part, Mr Winthrop, at a full ten years Mary's senior, had never expected to marry, so devoted was he to the happiness of everyone else. However, meeting a young lady with desires so well aligned with his own had changed his opinion of what was possible and he had proposed to Mary less than six months after meeting her. They were currently too involved in their charitable duties to travel south with the Darcys on this particular visit to Longbourn, but sent along their best wishes to the Bennets in their stead.

"I am excited to see Papa, but Mama…" Elizabeth huffed and Nell stirred against her chest. Once assured that the babe had drifted back into deeper sleep, she continued, "I am not looking forward to more advice on begetting you a son. Mama's letters have been full of nothing else now that Nell is a year old and I am not at all eager to hear about it in person."

Elizabeth felt William's chuckle more than she heard it as she was tucked up against his side and the offering had been very quiet. "If it appeases you, I have no complaints regarding your...efforts."

"You..." Elizabeth lightly elbowed her husband in his side, though she dared not do more for fear of waking Nell. "I am serious, you should hear some of the things she suggests! Special teas, diets, health regimens, positions..."

"Positions?"

The elevated interest in William's voice amused Elizabeth and she laughed, quietly, at him. "Nothing which would tempt you, dearest. These positions are meant to be performed after you have done your part."

"Oh, well, in that case..."

Elizabeth shook her head at her husband. He grinned playfully – an expression she had once thought him incapable of – in response. "Regardless, I have grown quite tired of Mama's 'advice.' It is all stuff and nonsense."

"What makes you say that?" An inquisitively raised brow was added to William's mirthful expression.

"I have four sisters."

After a slight pause, William released a little laugh and conceded, "Touche."

"It would not bother me so much if she would simply contain herself after a few comments, but she must bring it up over and over again." Elizabeth's ire at her mother's well meant but mortifying instruction was growing with each complaint and her voice was tight as a result. "Papa, at least, contents himself with a single quip about being surrounded by women and leaves it at that. I love Mama dearly, but I tire of her wailing about something which I cannot help."

William kissed Elizabeth's temple again and nuzzled the same spot affectionately. "It is a good thing that we are staying at Netherfield, then."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, tilting her head back to offer her lips to her husband. William met them with his own and they shared a brief kiss before resettling into their former positions. "I shall be very happy to see Jane with no qualifications whatsoever. I will also say that, for her sake, I hope she is carrying a boy. If not, Mama will be entirely unbearable until they are able to leave for Derbyshire."

Jane, the eldest and most sweet natured of all the Bennet sisters, had married her Mr Bingley at the same time as Elizabeth and William during the Christmas season of 1811. Despite their wedding dates being identical, Jane had not fallen with child as quickly as Elizabeth, which had caused much histrionic concern in Mrs Bennet. Fortunately, she and Charles had finally been blessed some seven months ago and now awaited the arrival of their firstborn before they could move to an estate they had purchased less than thirty miles from Pemberley. They expected to be able to pack up and leave Hertfordshire for their more permanent residence in the early spring after Jane had gone through her confinement; the Darcys were eagerly anticipating having the Bingleys as closer neighbors, as were the Winthrops. The Bennets of Longbourn were mostly resigned to the change, except for Mrs Bennet who persisted in begging the Bingleys to change their minds and remain at Netherfield. Such wheedling likely only made her eldest daughter and son-in-law more eager to be away, but such an idea had never occurred to Mrs Bennet and she kept at it in the hopes of eventual success (after all, it seemed to work well enough on Mr Bennet).

"So long as Mrs Cole is not in residence, I shall be happy enough," William grumbled, causing his wife to smile.

Mrs Caroline Cole – formerly Miss Caroline Bingley – had not much improved upon her marriage other than to be successfully out of sight and mind of her brother and sister-in-law. Of course, as she was only lately married, perhaps she had simply not had enough time to benefit from the state for such improvements to be apparent. Immediately after the double ceremony which had united the Bingleys and Darcys, Miss Bingley had removed herself from her brother's care and resigned to that of the Hursts, desirous of putting some distance between herself and the happy couples. She had remained in her sister's household for another year before, upon the frustrated insistence of Mr Hurst, she had been turned out and set up in her own establishment. No one would admit to a specific cause for this breech, but whispers about Town had it that Miss Bingley's newly acquired habit of overindulging in drink might have had something to do with it. Elizabeth rather doubted that this was the truth, however, as she could not see Mr Hurst begrudging a fellow lush room and board. Were it true, Elizabeth did not want to imagine what sort of slovenly behavior would make Miss Bingley unwelcome at the Hursts'; it would have to have been quite shocking, indeed.

Regardless of the imperfectly known details regarding the former Miss Bingley's expulsion from her sister's home, at five-and-twenty, with her prospects, beauty and fortune steadily dwindling, she had been forced to lower her standards for potential husbands and admit the attentions of gentlemen who would be more willing to consider her for a wife. In the end, only Mr Cole, a purveyor of fine carriages with the aim of expanding his business, had been interested enough to make her an offer and Miss Bingley had accepted him. It was not the high society match that she had hoped for, but Mrs Cole at least had the advantage of living in London as she had always preferred, even if she resided almost – but not quite – in view of her husband's warehouses.

"No, Mrs Cole has not set foot in Hertfordshire in the past two years and I doubt that she ever will again," Elizabeth soothed, nuzzling at her husband's shoulder through the fine blue fabric of his coat. "For myself, I am only glad that there is no militia stationed in Meryton!"

"Hmph," was William's agreement.

After their engagement had been announced to the neighborhood, Elizabeth had noted to William that Mr Wickham had quite suddenly found a distaste for social occasions amongst the gentrified citizens of Meryton and its environs (although, according to many of the shopkeepers in the village, he had not been shy in running up debts with them). It had not been a stretch of imagination from there to assume that the libelous lieutenant had, much as he had done for the Netherfield Ball, fled from the influence of his former friend. No doubt Mr Wickham had realized that his tall tales had not prospered in the way he had intended if Elizabeth had betrothed herself to William less than a fortnight after so dramatically confiding them to her. William's increasing popularity amongst the neighborhood as Elizabeth's fiance had also stymied any plans he might have had to spread his lies further; no one would believe a word said against the handsome, honorable, if austere, Mr Darcy.

Later that summer, after the Darcys and Bennets had retired to Pemberley and the militia had marched on to Brighton for training, word had reached Hertfordshire and then been forwarded on to Derbyshire via the letters from Elizabeth's gossiping Aunt Philips that Mr Wickham was in very great trouble, indeed. It seemed that, after amassing a rather staggering pile of debts amongst the merchants of Brighton and his fellow officers, Mr Wickham had fled his commission. This would have been bad enough, but he had had the further temerity to take the wife of his commanding officer with him when he had escaped into the night, presumably as his "special companion" for the journey. Mrs Forester had left behind a note alleging that she and Mr Wickham were headed for the Scottish border with an apparent unconcern for the fact that she was already, in fact, married and that any union between herself and the wayward lieutenant could in no way be considered valid by the laws of either God or man.

Many months later, Mrs Philips had confided the resolution of the sorry tale to Elizabeth in yet another letter on the subject. Running away from his regiment during a time of war had been a great enough offense, but Colonel Forster had made it his personal mission to bring Mr Wickham to justice, one must presume on behalf of his own injured honor. Instead of being consigned to the stockades or a stint in Marshalsea, Colonel Forster had pulled a few strings and sent Mr Wickham to the gallows once he had been apprehended. It had greatly disturbed Elizabeth to hear this much as, in spite of her own poor opinion of Mr Wickham and his slander, she had not considered him evil enough to swing. However, she had to admit that he had brought it upon himself with his own foolishness; imagine, running off with the colonel's wife and expecting no retribution from the army. Mr Wickham likely would have made it away clean had he only escaped by himself, but he would press his luck.

Mrs Forester, for her part, had been found more than two months prior to Mr Wickham's arrest, alone and stranded in the darkest parts of London. Though the details were, naturally, not privy to the public, one had to assume that Mrs Forester had eventually reached out to her cuckolded husband for salvation and then been reluctantly rescued from her self inflicted folly. Mrs Philips' information did not spread quite so far as to say what had happened to her after this, but she had not been seen in the company of Colonel Forester since immediately after her recovery and was, most likely, set up in some forgotten cottage in a far flung location to live out the rest of her days in shame. Elizabeth felt sorry for Mrs Forester, remembering her as a flighty thing and a great friend of her youngest sister, but was more than grateful that Lydia's invitation to attend the militia to Brighton in her company had been politely rejected in favor of spending the summer at Pemberley instead. Had Lydia placed herself in the chaperonage of Mrs Forester, there was no telling what sort of scandal might have befallen her family as a result; even such a long period of time later, Elizabeth had to suppress a shudder at the thought.

"Are you cold, dearest?"

Elizabeth looked up at her darling husband and shook her head. "Not at all; if anything Nell is keeping me overly warm."

William's head tilted to one side inquisitively. "Then why did you shiver?"

"I was just thinking about Mr Wickham...and Mrs Forester. What might have happened had we not married when we did? Lydia might have been allowed to go off to Brighton and we all could have been ruined by proxy. It was a near miss, I think." Elizabeth shuddered again as she always did whenever her thoughts turned toward the subject.

"I am grateful for many reasons that we married," William said with a self-satisfied little smirk, "but I am also glad that our union has had so many unforeseen benefits to others. I concur, it would have been potentially injurious to your family had Lydia been permitted to travel with Mrs Forester, but as she was not I believe that to dwell upon disasters averted is an exercise in frustration. Remember your own philosophy and recall the past only as it brings you pleasure."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Well, when you put it like that, I suppose I must bow to your excellent advice."

The Darcys shared another kiss between them and resettled themselves comfortably. At length, after Elizabeth had accustomed herself to the quiet, William startled her by venturing tentatively, "While we are on the subject of your younger sisters..."

When Elizabeth huffed in exasperation, it rustled the downy curls which covered the crown of Nell's head. "Fitzwilliam, you really must stop fretting. Kitty and Lydia have improved so much in the past two years that you cannot have any real concerns in regards to their behavior now. They will be, if not perfectly ladylike, certainly as close to it as one can expect from girls of their age. Further, Georgiana depends upon their attendance during her Season; she has threatened not to come out at all if she has not Kitty and Lydia at hand to give her confidence. You really must accustom yourself to the inevitable."

It was William's turn to express his irritation with a hastily expelled puff of air. "'Fitzwilliam,' am I?"

"When you are being insufferable, yes."

"It is not unreasonable – "

"For you to be unreasonable?"

"It is not unreasonable," William persisted, nudging Elizabeth with his hip in admonition, "for a guardian to wish his charge the best possible beginning when coming out into society for the first time. You must admit that your youngest sisters have not always been the most..."

As William trailed off, undoubtedly searching for a suitable euphemism which would not entirely offend his already prickly wife, Elizabeth pulled slightly away from him to glare more directly at his face. It was a silent dare to complete his sentence in a way which would not be haughty and insulting.

William huffed again. "You know very well what I mean, Elizabeth. You recall that we discussed this before we were married."

"You discussed it, not I. During your first so-called proposal which, if you recall, I initially rejected."

"Technically, it was the second proposal," William reminded her, his expression relaxing momentarily into a teasing smirk before solidifying back into his most bullheaded facade.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in response. "The technicalities aside, Fitzwilliam, I will remind you that I did not agree to your stipulations regarding my family's introduction to London society. However, you will further recall that, until now, I have not pressed you to invite them to Town during the Season in deference to your opinion on the subject; you will not always get your way in this. Further, Mrs Annesley has assured you – repeatedly – that Kitty and Lydia are ready to be released into the world alongside Georgiana. And, of course, she will be there to chaperone in addition to ourselves. Finally, you would not disappoint them all by rescinding your permission to join us in Town, would you?"

"I suppose not...I just worry that they are not ready. Society might seem all that is glamorous and romantic, but there is ugliness in it, as well. I would not subject any young lady to the dangers therein if I could help it." William's face tightened with consternation and displeasure as he tipped his head back onto the seat cushions, his gaze now averted to the ceiling of their equipage.

"Ah, so that is it," Elizabeth replied, realization dawning. "You are concerned that the girls will be led astray as Georgiana was by Mr Wickham. Well, I will not deny that there are unscrupulous people in town – as there are everywhere, I might add – but you cannot put this off forever. The girls must venture out from under your protection at some point and find their own happiness. Showing a lack of confidence in them will only hurt them; you really must learn to acclimate yourself to this."

"Must I?"

"I am afraid so."

William's head pivoted in her direction, a rather grim smile spread across the lower half of his face. "If you say it, it must be so," he conceded with a tone of defeat in his voice, "but I am not required to like it."

"I shall not demand it of you."

"Very magnanimous of you, Mrs Darcy."

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, so I am 'Mrs Darcy' now that you must grudgingly admit that I am right?"

"Only so long as I am still 'Fitzwilliam.'"

"Touche, Fitzwilliam."

"Mrs Darcy."

The air between them now sufficiently cleared of animus, Elizabeth resettled herself into William's side, the dreaming Nell nuzzling likewise closer to her mother's bosom at the same time. "Let us discuss something more pleasant," Elizabeth suggested as she rested her head upon her husband's closest available shoulder.

"Such as?"

A sudden thought sparking within her brain, Elizabeth smirked and continued, in as nonchalant a tone as she could conjure, "Have you heard from Lady Catherine recently?"

William groaned so loudly in response that Nell stirred with a whimper, requiring Elizabeth to shush her daughter back into peaceful repose. She supposed that, considering their history with William's quarrelsome aunt and her toadying parson, it was really her own fault that William had nearly woken their babe; he was reluctant at all times to discuss Lady Catherine and her unreasonable demands. Even after nearly two years married, Lady Catherine persisted in demanding that William somehow abandon his wife and child to marry the sickly Anne de Bourgh, no matter how well and truly that particular ship had sailed. Elizabeth found the absurdity rather amusing, but then Lady Catherine's letters were never addressed to her; ever since she had "polluted the shades of Pemberley" by marrying William, Lady Catherine had refused to even acknowledge her existence, and one did not send post to the unacknowledged.

"Unfortunately, yes, and I had opened the letter before realizing who it was from," complained William once Nell had quieted again. He had lowered his voice lest he disturb their daughter again. "Her latest accusation, if you can call it such, was to suggest that you are incapable of bearing me an heir."

"And that her daughter, of course, would have presented you with a son within a year of marrying you?" Elizabeth guessed with no little amusement at the absurdity of such a notion. It was unlikely that sweet, sickly Anne – who had no qualms at all in corresponding with Elizabeth, even if her mother refused to do so – would ever be healthy enough to bear a child at all, much less the greatly anticipated heir to the Darcy fortune. It was really for the best that Anne was not married at all. "No – an heir and a spare. As we both know, Anne would be a true proficient at anything she set her mind and talents to."

"How did you know?" William's query was heavily laden with the sarcasm which often characterized his father-in-law's communications.

"I am, as ever, most perspicacious."

"While we are on the subject of Lady Catherine, I might as well inquire whether you have heard from your cousin Collins of late." William's voice was now infused with the mischievous humor of his wife; he had certainly expanded his witticisms since marrying into the Bennet clan.

Elizabeth's nose wrinkled at the thought of Mr Collins and his various presumptions – both prior to and following her marriage – of intimacy. He had been, perhaps, the most shocked of anyone upon the announcement of Elizabeth's pending nuptials to William two autumns prior, both because of his own aspirations to his "dear Cousin Elizabeth's" hand and also his misguided assumptions about William's supposed betrothal to his own cousin. He had not taken the news well at all and had, after an extended argument between himself and Mrs Bennet, one which was only broken up by being ejected from the house by his hostess, protested by removing himself from Longbourn and resettling himself at Lucas Lodge for the remainder of his Hertfordshire stay. To Elizabeth's mind, the ninny had simply lacked the fortitude to risk facing William and his wrath again, but Mr Collins had always maintained the story which made him appear less cowardly and foolish, quite to the point of rewriting the history of that day. The following afternoon, having apparently decided that all the Bennets were a "scheming, grasping lot," Mr Collins had smugly announced his own betrothal to Charlotte – something which had greatly shocked Elizabeth at first being informed of it.

After discussing the matter with her friend, however, Elizabeth had rescinded all of her objections to the match – at least outwardly – and wished Charlotte well in her future life as Mrs William Collins. It was not at all what she would have hoped for her dear childhood companion, but Charlotte had been pleased with her lot and Elizabeth found herself forced to be the same. Mr Collins and Charlotte had married a month after she, herself, had been united to William and then settled immediately thereafter in Hunsford to tend to her husband's parsonage house, poultry and patroness.

In the months and now years following this most unforeseen turn of events, Elizabeth found herself grateful for the closer connection she and Charlotte now shared as cousins-by-marriage, even if she could never quite reconcile herself the thought that Mr Collins could every gain any woman's good opinion. Not that Elizabeth wished for an inside view of what it was like to be the wife of Mr Collins, but Charlotte had proven herself invaluable in mending the fences between the Bennets and their heir, a rather dubious benefit but one which pleased her parents (Mrs Bennet need never fear a sudden ejection from her home of the past quarter century and Mr Bennet was able to keep open the lines of communication between himself and his favorite correspondent).

Charlotte had, much to Mr Bennet's great amusement, provided her husband with a girl child even before Elizabeth had birthed Nell. Little Catherine Collins would not assist her parents in securing the entail, but she was the joy of Charlotte's life and provided her friend with something other than Mr Collins' to focus her energies upon. Elizabeth only hoped, for their sake, that Cathy took more after her mother in common sense.

As for Mr Collins himself, he had taken Mr Bennet's advice about William having more to offer than his aunt to heart and his fawning attentions had persisted after the initial shock of the betrothal to Elizabeth had faded. He was not quite so daring as to attempt a direct correspondence between them – likely due to lingering fear of William, if Elizabeth had to guess – but Mr Collins managed to add his long winded well wishes to the end of each of Charlotte's letters for William's eyes, thereby flattering the object of his affections from afar. Elizabeth took great pleasure in reading each of Mr Collins' "delicate compliments" to her husband whenever she happened to receive them and reveled in the inevitable roll of William's eyes in response. Elizabeth felt sure that Lady Catherine must be entirely unaware of Mr Collins' persisting courtship of her disowned nephew for none of her letters to this same said nephew had contained complaints along those lines.

At length, Elizabeth replied to William's saucy inquiry. "I have not had a letter from Charlotte since we came away from Pemberley last month, but I have no doubt that Mr Collins will have something to add for you when I do receive her next. Do you think he will praise your greatness this time? Or will he be more direct this time and expound upon how very fine your eyes are?"

"Minx."

Not a quarter hour after this playful exchange, the carriage shuddered to a stop upon the gravel drive of Elizabeth's childhood home. Peeking out from between curtains of the window on her side, Elizabeth could see her parents and two unmarried sisters waiting impatiently upon the front steps of the family abode and she breathed deeply to steady herself for what was to come.

Elizabeth looked first to William, whose expression indicated that he, too, was girding himself to greet the exuberant Bennets, and then to Nell whose peaceful sleep was about to be interrupted most rudely. She smiled and released her last inhalation with more contentment than she had taken it.

"Come, my loves," she said to them both, sitting forward and readjusting her hold upon the bundle which was her daughter, "the sooner we pay our visit, the sooner we can continue on to Netherfield to see the Bingleys."

William pressed his lips to Elizabeth's temple a final time, relishing the last moments of quiet with his eyes closed. "And then a rest."

"Of course, dearest. As you wish."

Author's Note: Oh, thank GOODNESS that's done. (Bangs head on keyboard.) This story nearly did me in. I'm not completely satisfied with some of the chapters, but hopefully that can be fixed later with some editing. I think the biggest problem/regret I have is rushing it; I should have just waited to post the initial chapters until after it was all finished. Well, here's hoping that hindsight will help me in the future. For now, I'm walking away to focus on "Dare to Refuse Such a Man" and other background projects.

It's Mother's Day in the US so go show some appreciation!

Next Update: None!
Expected Completion Date: ALL DONE!

– MrsMarySmythe