Author's Notes: Here is the end at last. Finally. I know it's not long for you but for me I've been working on this on and off for a year, so I'm both happy and sad to be posting this Epilogue. I don't usually do such a big time jump, but it seemed appropriate here.

Also, thanks to all who have reviewed, favorited, followed, and just plain read as in less than a month this has become my most viewed story (the previous record holder took over three years to reach that many views). So thank you and I hope you enjoy the end of this tale.

Epilogue

Ten Years Later

It was yet another ball of the Gordons, this one in honor of the engagement of one of their nieces. George never could remember their names, and it seemed too much of a bother to. He would make his bow and escape to the punch bowl and the card room soon enough, as his dancing days seemed done, what with the gout he tended to suffer. Not that the ladies were clamoring for his attentions any more. Time had expanded his waistline and receded his hair line to the point that he wished that wigs were still in fashion. Prosperity had its drawbacks as well its blessings.

He just wanted to get past the receiving line so he could go his own way, and let Maria, who for some time had been bored enough with him to not care whether he spent his time in his club or a brothel (not that he had enough libidinous interest at the moment to even bother with the latter), pick over the latest bunch of young libertines to find a companion for the evening and possible later. Not that he cared. Ten years with her had pretty much sucked away his interest in anything but food and wine, and with the loss of his best looks he never really got the pretty young things to look at him the way they used to, and he was not so unfond of life as to dare try anything with the servants of the household. Maria had very few hard and fast rules, but she was adamant that the servants were off limits for anything outside of their normal range of duties. She would never dally with the footmen or stableboys and he would have lost an appendage if he had tried anything with the maids. Not that she ever hired any pretty young things.

George's function now was to be Maria's official escort, to run her unpleasant errands, and gather all the gentlemen's gossip as she did the ladies. In other words his function was to be at her beck and call, a task he could now practically do in his sleep or more precisely while in his cups. He was not inclined to let anything get in the way of his appetite for good food and drink. There had been times over the years where he had fantasized about taking a ship to parts unknown and starting a new and exciting life, but then he never had been good about saving his funds, and he got sea sick simply standing on a boat at dock. His other favorite fantasy was that Maria would pass on before him, leaving him all of her money, but she had shown no signs of being willing to change the provisions she had set up at the time of their marriage, and he very much enjoyed the level of personal luxury he enjoyed even if it meant having to put up with his wife at the same time.

Maria prodded him, and he realized they had reached Lord and Lady Gordon and pulling his discomposed thoughts together, he exchanged greetings and moved on. Yes, there was the punch bowl, calling him like a siren. The Gordons did always provide a nice strong punch. Getting a cup, he found a convenient spot to sit and watch the rest of the notables enter. Where Maria went, he cared not. Let some young pup have at her; it meant less humiliation for himself as Maria was rather contemptuous about his inability to rise to any occasion without a great deal of effort. He knew that she owned the smaller and somewhat obscure house next to their own which she used to meet her current "friends," as it was easy enough to slip back to their house during the early morning hours, though he did not know why she bothered. It is not as if either cared.

As he sipped his punch, George stared at the people arriving, waiting to see someone of interest. There seemed to be no one, not until the Darcys arrived.

George had seen relatively little of them over the years. He and Maria traveled in rather different circles. Her primary estate was in Devon; his in Derbyshire, and the Darcys spent little time in town. He had heard all the gossip available, not that there was much beyond how devoted they were to one another and the births of Darcy's children. He had his heir and spare first, of course, that bastard, and two girls as well. George could not help but stare at the couple.

Oh, it was not fair. Darcy was perhaps a tad thicker around the middle with a trace of gray about the temples but looking all the more distinguished, yet that was nothing to the transformation to Mrs. Darcy. She was no longer the newlywed girl he'd first seen and puzzled over but a woman whose additional curves, instead of making her look matronly, ended up adding to her beauty. She was one of those women who seemed to grow more alluring as she matured. Now she was every inch the great lady but renowned for her quick yet gentle wit, her sparkling eyes and her devotion to her family.

Quite a few rakes had tried to challenge that last bit of her reputation, without any luck, as she was clever and careful enough to deflect, deflate, or dismiss any man who tried to impose upon her, even once she had provided her husband with two sons. It was incredible to think that she was not long bored with her dull stick of a husband, but so it seemed. Not too surprising to Wickham was the fact that Darcy himself was still just as immune to the attempted seductions of the bored wives, widows or courtesans, beyond being still quite attentive to his wife. As bloodless as he had always seen Darcy, Wickham could not wonder that he would not be particularly interested in outside temptations when he had such a desirable woman at his beck and call, especially since Darcy seemed to have realized that he had managed to acquire an unusual prize, and clearly he was willing to defend it against all comers.

Damn the man. He had wealth, beauty, posterity, and freedom, and what did George have? He had security and enough to eat and drink as well as a bitch of a wife who did as she pleased while keeping him on a leash. If he could only have managed to elope with Georgiana, he would have had everything, and never would have needed to depend on the nonexistent mercy of Maria Montcraven. But that time was long past. Georgiana had married a baronet's son just after her twentieth birthday. He had seen them not long after their marriage but had not dared approach, and when he finally had the misfortune to meet her face to face nearly a year later, he was humiliated when she did not recognize him until his identity was pointed out to her and then all she did was flush in slight embarrassment before she and her husband moved on.

Damn it all. He could have had so much more. George looked at his glass. Empty. If he was going to make it through the evening, he was going to need a lot more punch.

~o~O~o~

Out of the corner of his eye, Fitzwilliam Darcy watched his wife with pleasure as she was speaking with Lady Stewart. She looked lovely in her gown of gold, the style particularly flattering to her figure, not that her figure needed any flattering as he knew from long experience and very private observation. But still, whenever he saw her in her finest gowns, all he really wished to do was get her out of them again, even after ten years of marriage.

However, that would as always have to wait. While he would never be overly enamored with certain of their required social engagements as he far preferred to spend his time with his wife and children, he no longer dreaded them, and that was all due to Elizabeth. It had taken some time and a few missteps, but she had managed to find her place in society and with it their own distinct place as a couple, something he had not given much thought to as a single man. After all, he was born into this society, and while he knew that he would have greater social obligations once wed, he had not considered all the implications.

But Elizabeth with her greater ease in company made it far easier for him to do his duties as host with less reserve than was his natural wont, though perhaps he found it easier to deal with society now that he was no longer the natural prey of the world's matchmakers. While he had occasionally to fend off offers of another sort, that was nowhere near as trying to his nerves as the offers he knew his wife had been dealing with. It was one of the primary reasons why he kept up with his sword practice and pistol shooting and had a goodly reputation with both. Happily he had not had to go so far in defending his wife's honor, as beyond the friends and allies that they cultivated in society who were very useful in weeding out undesirable attention, they also spent much of their time at each other's side and when not had perfected a signaling system to indicate distress or a desire for rescue.

For the moment, however, there was no need for concern, Lady Stewart had become a good friend to Elizabeth, as they tended to have a somewhat similar outlook on life though Lady Stewart was far more interested in the ton's gossip and had a rather acerbic wit, and Sir Nicholas with whom he was discussing the latest political news even as he watched his wife was a man with a wide cynical streak and a penchant for sarcasm, that complemented Lady Stewart's own humor. It was almost always entertaining to converse with him.

"I hope your uncle will manage to be sensible over the issue..." Sir Nicholas was saying before stopping and in a different and quieter tone of voice said, "Devil take it; Lady Spode has spotted us. Why are you so blasted tall, and why does she have to be your sister-in-law?"

Darcy repressed his own sigh once he saw Lady Spode, the former Caroline Bingley, heading their way. "I prefer to think of her as my sister-in-law's sister-in-law," he said quietly.

Not that he could avoid her as much as he liked considering their familial relationship as distant as he preferred to think of it. Another trial was the fact that on the occasion of their marriage, her husband Sir Humphrey (a well to do widower sixteen years her senior) had purchased Netherfield Park on his new brother's recommendation as he had been looking for an estate within an easy distance of town, and unfortunately they could not always schedule visits to Longbourn to coincide with the Spodes' time in London. Nor, unfortunately as he had no need to learn now, could they entirely avoid them when in London. He took comfort in the fact that the Spodes rarely visited the Bingleys who now lived within thirty miles of Pemberley, as Sir Humphrey disliked the North of England.

"Oh, Sir Nicholas, Mr. Darcy, what a pleasure it is to see you again," Lady Spode said, as she came up to them. "I never see either you or your lovely wives enough."

"More than enough," Sir Nicholas murmured.

"So unfortunate," Darcy said, thinking that it was unfortunate that they could not avoid her for yet another night.

"Are you in town for long, Mr. Darcy?" she asked. "We really must have you and Mrs. Darcy over to dinner. After all we are family."

"I will have to consult with Mrs. Darcy, as I know we have a number of engagements before our return to Pemberley."

"Oh, I shall certainly do that," she said, and spotting Elizabeth immediately made her way over to her.

Darcy hung back for a moment until his wife turned and caught his eye with a raised brow which effectively summoned him.

As he reached her side, Elizabeth was saying, "I am afraid that I will have to consult my diary. We have rather committed ourselves on this trip." And before Lady Spode could press more, she switched topics. "Have you heard the latest news from Jane and your brother?"

Lady Spode's eyes narrowed slightly but then with a forced smile said, "You mean about their expecting a new arrival? Of course, Charles says that this time it will be a son, but then he said that about the previous two girls. Your sister seems as prolific at providing girls as your late mother."

"How fortunate that Charles dotes on every one," Elizabeth said, then so sweetly, "as I am sure you must dote on your new granddaughter as I have heard Sir Humphrey does."

Darcy noticed Lady Spode flinch, though she hid it well enough. Even he was aware that she felt rather sensitive about the fact that her step-children were not that much younger than she, and that she hated to be thought of as a grandmother. However, under the circumstances, she could hardly make a protest without sounding churlish. Darcy always admired Elizabeth's skill in this particular arena.

Then Lady Stewart piped in with, "And your son has just begun his career at the bar, following in his father's footsteps. Not something that every woman can boast of at your age. Providence has been very kind to you, especially considering..." She trailed off significantly before waving a hand. "But then that is neither here nor there, is it? Oh is Sir Humphrey over there? We must not keep you."

"Of course," Lady Spode said, her smile tight. But apparently not to be gainsaid entirely, she added, "I will call on you, Mrs. Darcy, as soon as may be."

"I will expect it," Elizabeth replied neutrally.

As Lady Spode walked away, Lady Stewart said, "How is it that she always makes it sound like a threat?"

"What I would like to know is how her husband managed to become a judge?" Sir Nicholas said. "If his head were any more full of hot air, he could float across the English channel."

"Well, if it were not, how could he elevate his dear second wife to the level she desires?" Lady Stewart replied caustically. "Though with the lead weights she insists on donning..." She shrugged her shoulders.

Darcy had long known that Lady Stewart made the most of what she did not say, and Elizabeth had become equally skilled in her own way, as he could tell by the expression in her eyes that she agreed with him that they would be too busy to have time for any engagements with the Spodes until it was time to return to Longbourn where their three eldest children were visiting with the Collinses and Grandfather Bennet.

He hoped his children were not getting into trouble, considering they all preferred being free to run in the country with their cousins than being cooped up in the city with only well supervised visits to parks or exhibits to look forward to. He knew that little Meg wanted to be with her siblings; however, she was currently safely tucked up in the nursery of their town house, as they felt she was really too young to be any great distance away from them. Perhaps the next visit she would be ready.

As for the Collinses, their children took more after their mother and grandfather than their father, though he had to admit that Collins had improved over the years he had been at Longbourn. Darcy had long regretted that his estrangement from his aunt had made their time at Hunsford singularly unpleasant for them while they remained there. Out of guilt he had started looking for another living for Mr. Collins; however, before he found one, they had found a solution of their own. With both Kitty and Lydia away at school and Jane and Bingley moving to Derbyshire, Mrs. Bennet found herself at a loss and suddenly welcomed the idea of training Mary to be the next mistress of Longbourn, and Mr. Bennet discovered that Mr. Collins had an enthusiasm for estate business that once sufficient instruction had been given left the elder gentleman more time for his books, so within three years, Mary and Collins had become permanent residents of Longbourn.

It also helped with Mrs. Bennet's nerves as both Kitty and Lydia once they left school ended up spending much of their time with the Gardiners or their married sisters in quest of suitable husbands, and both were married within a year or two of leaving school.

Seven years ago Catherine Bennet had married the vicar of Kympton, Reverend Smith, and they now had three children of their own. She had blossomed after leaving school and had become the ideal vicar's wife, devoting herself to her family and the parish. Lydia, who had never lost her love of red coats, had met and married a friend of Col. Fitzwilliam, a Col. Talbot, and soon to Mrs. Bennet's utmost distress was off to India with her husband. As far as Darcy knew they had no children as yet, but Lydia's letters were sporadic and filled with stories of adventures and mishaps all embraced with her particular carefree enthusiasm. Darcy reflected that her schooling had merely tamed rather than broken her spirit, and she seemed to thrive abroad in a way that she could never have done in England.

By the time Mrs. Bennet died four years past, the Collinses were effectively running Longbourn, and the estate was thriving as it had never before. So much so that they had made several renovations, including a separate study for Collins to conduct estate business, and soon after Mrs. Bennet's death, Mr. Bennet had had the room next to his bookroom converted to a bedroom, letting the Collins take over the master's and mistress's rooms, as well as the estate's business in its entirety. He now preferred to indulge himself in his reading and spoiling all of his grandchildren, often to the chagrin of their parents, as well as dropping into his daughters' homes when least expected. As the arrangement worked for all parties, Darcy could hardly fault it, though he would prefer his father-in-law to give notice when he intended to visit. Otherwise, it certainly made things easier for everyone.

Forcing his attention back to his surroundings, Darcy was pleased to see that Lady Spode had moved on, and a far more welcome person had approached his wife.

~o~O~o~

"Charlotte, why did you not let us know you were in Town?" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"It was rather last minute," her old friend replied. "Lord Graves asked Penelope and me to watch out over his daughter Petunia who has come out this year. Well, I was a last minute addition as he said while he trusted his sister to keep fortune hunters away, he also needed someone who would not chase away the respectable men."

"I see," Elizabeth said. "That seems a rather sensible approach. You two are a formidable team."

Elizabeth had introduced Aunt Prudence to Charlotte at their wedding breakfast ten years earlier, and the two women had quickly formed a friendship. Within a year, Charlotte became her companion and not too much after that her acknowledged heir.

It was not a life that Elizabeth would particularly have wanted, but she believed it was certainly superior to a marriage contracted solely for reasons of security. The very thought of having to share a bed with a man she was at best indifferent to was enough to make her shudder. Men had simply too much power in the arrangement.

As for herself, Elizabeth was grateful to have married a man who both loved and respected her flaws and all. Theirs was indeed a marriage of true minds, even when they disagreed or argued, which was not that often now. His manners had softened with time and parenthood and her tendency to impulsiveness had done the same.

Though Elizabeth had had hopes of helping Charlotte find a husband she could truly love, once Charlotte had an assured income and a comfortable home, she had little interest in finding a husband. She and Aunt Prudence were truly kindred spirits and remained quite content spinsters together. In the end, Elizabeth was glad for her friend and if Charlotte was half as happy as she, then her lot in life was fortunate indeed.

Elizabeth stole a quick glance at her husband across the room and smiled at him. Almost, she thought, as fortunate as me.

~o~O~o~

George was slowly making his way to the card room. He could always count on a few cronies to be ready for a game at reasonable stakes. It was unfortunate that he ended up having to pass close by his wife who spotted him and summoned him to her side, where she immediately disregarded him as she seemed busy trying to make some point or sport with Mrs. Darcy, who was even lovelier close up, especially when compared to his wife's standard shrewish expression. Mrs. Darcy, at least, acknowledged his presence before Maria spoke again.

"The benefits of having a well trained husband," she said casually. "Always at my command. I am sure you must understand the benefits, as your husband so seldom strays from your side." Maria paused and then looking at Elizabeth with a slightly malicious expression. "Or is it that he has you well trained not to stray from his?"

Mrs. Darcy raised a brow. "Neither. After all, my husband never strays, he simply is where he is supposed to be. We neither of need leashes to keep us in check," she said. "I rather pity those that do."

"That is because you clearly have not had the pleasure of holding the leash," Maria replied with a slight sneer. "Few women do have that power."

"Oh, I rather relish the power I do have," Mrs. Darcy replied. "It has its own particular potency that nothing else can replace." She looked beyond Maria with a smile.

George turned to see Darcy walking to his wife's side.

"Pray excuse me," he said, "I must claim my wife." He looked at his wife with a small secretive smile. "Mrs. Darcy, the waltz is about to begin."

"Of course," she replied, before turning back to Maria. "This has been a most... interesting conversation, but do excuse me." The two left before Maria could do more than tilt her head.

She looked over at George. "Really, the Darcys are quite insufferable. Both of them. How that cow has become one of society's darlings I will never know."

It's because you cannot see past the end of your own nose or beyond your mirror, George thought but did not say.

As usual, Maria did not require a response as she immediately went on to another topic, the one he assumed he had been summoned for. "I expect you to return to me in time for supper," she was saying. "We will be sitting together, as I intend to be certain that you do not eat anything to cause your gout to flare up. You are utterly useless when that happens."

"Of course, dear," George said indifferently, thinking it might be worth the pain to vex his wife.

Knowing he was dismissed, he continued his interrupted journey to the card room, passing by the Darcys on his way. Their almost palpable pleasure with one another was enough to make him curse Darcy under his breath again. But then he considered the rich red wine he was about to consume and let that thought take him on to his destination.

~o~O~o~

"Whatever were you discussing with Mrs. Montcraven?" Darcy asked his wife.

"I do not believe discussion had any place in it," Elizabeth said. "For some reason she felt a compelling need to subject me to a monologue on the topic of subjugating husbands."

"It seems to be her hobby horse," Darcy said. "However, what was it that you were finding so vexing?" He had seen her expression which is why he had had hurried to her side.

"Oh, that," Elizabeth replied. "It was the implication that either I or you needed some form of coercion to keep from 'straying' from one another."

"Obviously you refrained from disemboweling her," he said.

"Hardly necessary. I merely said that we neither of us needed a leash to stay together," she said before leaning in closer to whisper, "I refrained from mentioning the joys of trust and... restraint."

He closed his eyes for a moment as his memory threw up a very clear image of one of their more recent amorous adventures involving more than a bit of both. Opening his eyes, he looked at his wife. "You are a cruel woman, Mrs. Darcy," he said softly.

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth replied with exaggerated innocence.

"You know very well," he said. "You are altogether too quick with word play."

"I have to find a way to hold my own," she said, "considering your own considerable skills."

"I believe we are evenly matched in that respect," he said. "And I look forward to returning home with you this evening. However, right now, I believe our dance is about to begin."

Darcy led his wife to the floor. While it was not customary, everyone knew that Darcy would always and only dance the waltz with his wife. It was an accepted eccentricity on their parts, and he always relished the opportunity to hold her in his arms in a public setting.

"Have I told you how enchanting you are tonight?" he said.

"For an old married woman?" she responded with a teasing quirk of an eyebrow.

"Without any modifications at all," he said. "Dancing with you makes up for a host of ills."

"And that is why I delight in being married to you. You have such a silver tongue," she said with only a hint of a smile.

"Only on occasion," he said. "And only with you."

"So I should hope," she whispered. "I claim that talent for my own exclusive use."

"Always, dearest Elizabeth," his voice was low and soft, "queen of my heart and hearth, the finest woman I've ever known."

"And the most fortunate... to have fallen in love with you."

"And I you."

"Fortune, it would seem, has been kind."

"Indeed," Darcy took Elizabeth's hand in his, "and I pray it continues to do so. We have a very long life ahead of us."

"Well," she smiled, "if not, we'll make our own luck... together."

The End

End Notes:

Here we come to the end of the tale, and this is the first time I've ever written an epilogue with such a time jump, though this is probably the most I will jump as I prefer to leave my happy couples still in their relative youth, so I'm never going to write of them being grandparents or their deaths. Uh-uh, no way. They are immortal. And I know that there are those who really dislike epilogues and that's their privilege. I did try making this a little more than just a recitation of children and people's fates, even if there was a bit of that.

Hopefully, the various meetings at this ball interwoven with what are basically infodumps were entertaining at least. Charlotte's fate actually was a late change that happened when I was working on the dinner with Darcy's relatives. When Miss Graves suddenly asked Elizabeth if she truly wished to marry and that she was looking for a sensible woman to be her heir, that's when the notion of Charlotte becoming her companion popped in, as after all Charlotte was looking for a comfortable home and security without thinking highly of either men or marriage. I felt that if she were given the opportunity with written assurances of her annuity, she would be quite happy to forgo matrimony for a comfortable independence. Initially I was going to have her meet a sensible reverend of her own, but this just felt more right.

If the name Spode sounds familiar then you are probably a P.G. Wodehouse fan and thus have additional good taste (in liking Austen and Wodehouse I mean). I wish I had his talent for light comedy or could touch her genius rather than just borrow her characters. And just for information Caroline has three stepchildren, the eldest Harold who's just started making his way in his career as a barrister, the next Millicent who has just made her a grandmother, and Eustace who is still a school boy. She's not overly maternal. And well, Sir Humphrey is as described, and when his wife died he wanted an ambitious, attractive woman to act as hostess for him, and Caroline, who was starting to get long in the tooth by Regency standards, was willing to accept the role; she'd spent far too much time focusing on men who weren't interested in her. She's not the most perceptive person on the planet as we all know.

For those interested in the names of the Darcys' four children, they are Bennet, Edwin, Penelope, and Margaret. And I expect that they'll welcome two or three more in the otherwise unmentioned future, but there will be no twins.

The Bingleys have 3 girls so far, and I have not bothered to name them nor have I named the Collins' children though they have a boy in-between the ages of the Darcys' sons and a girl slightly older than the Darcys' elder daughter. As well, all the Fitzwilliam information I have is in the way of backstory, and I haven't bothered projecting into the future for them as I have to draw the line somewhere and as with the exception of the Colonel they are all OCs I figured no one would really care except as they related to the novel's characters hence the mention of Miss Graves, and sadly I don't have the love for the Colonel that some have. For me his primary function is his inability to keep his mouth shut. Someone (and I wish I could remember who) dubbed him either the Big or Loud Mouthed Plot Device, and that pretty much sums up my feelings for him. I have read charming, rakish, goofy, wicked, and in other ways interesting Colonels, but I really never understood how he became Col. Studmuffin to so many. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. So I leave his future fate to those who favor him.

I didn't name the son of a baronet for Georgiana mainly because I was wondering if I was going a step far as I had made him the son of Sir Percy Blakeney (aka the Scarlet Pimpernel), and as I've only read a few of the Pimpernel books and seen several adaptations, I have no idea of what any official offspring were, even if he had any. But by my calculations the timing works for him to have an offspring of the right age for Georgiana to marry. But then I also have Sir Percy making an actual cameo appearance in the crossover I'm writing, so there was also the worry that I'm doubling up, but then I also am doing that with Much Ado About Nothing.

Initially Kitty and Lydia weren't mentioned in the epilogue because it was a challenge to figure out how where they would fit in, but from reviews I did realize that the readers would want to know about them, especially Lydia, so I managed to work it in though I do think it is rather awkwardly done.

I unfortunately know little about the British army in India, other than it was not considered a desired posting, so I'm not quite sure how much danger Lydia is in, but the fact is that though I believed that school could temper Lydia it would never tame her utterly, and that if anyone could thrive in a strange and exotic environment, it would be her. She and her husband are in love, and he has enough sense to keep an eye on their finances, and she has learned enough as well from her schooling, but they both have an adventurous streak and a fearlessness in the face of danger that will serve them well in their new life. So all her energy now has a proper outlet. Maybe I'm so kind because I rather liked the Lydia from the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, the only Lydia I've ever really been able to do more than tolerate.

Normally, I wouldn't have killed off any characters, but I did want Mr. Bennet to survive Mrs. Bennet, so I'm afraid she had to go; however, she did get to see all her daughters married and settled and the births of several of her grandchildren, so she died with her life's work satisfied. For a generally fluffy author, I do occasionally have a ruthless streak as was very much on display in this story at least when it came to Wickham.

A very, very late change, as in over the weekend before the epilogue posted, was my having the Collinses moving into Longbourn within a couple of years of their marriage. The original version had Mr. Bennet inviting them after the death of Mrs. Bennet. But I had some concern expressed over the two of them having to put up with Lady Catherine and hoping they'd find another living. However, as I had already decided to instead give them the opportunity to make Longbourn their home long before it would officially be theirs, I decided to make it happen even sooner instead. So Mrs. Bennet feeling bereft of daughters wanted the company and the pride of training her daughter to take her place, and Mr. Bennet found his life easier when he could turn over the work to someone who was more enthusiastic for it.

Also, yes, I've basically turned Wickham into a Mr. Hurst. Alas. Or not. After all he has what he wanted. And, yes, his wife still keeps an eye on him even if she's no longer particularly interested in his fidelity (or hers for that matter). Even if he had the will, he wouldn't be importuning innocents. Sadly, his high living and an unmentioned riding accident have rather killed his libido. And there's no way I would ever allow him and Mrs. Montcraven to reproduce; it would be too cruel to the poor child. Fortunately, Maria is incapable of having children, and she doesn't mind in the least. She may regret being the last Montcraven, but she takes pride in it as well. She really is a rather cold lady. And yet somehow I had a lot of fun writing her. Go figure.

So anyway, I hope no one really minds that the notes here are in some ways the epilogue to the epilogue, but as always there is so much detail that never makes it into the story, and I really didn't want to overly clutter the epilogue itself, but just give enough information to hopefully satisfy. And then of course I added more information for those that want to know even more. I know I always do.

To Chapter 11 Guest: Thank you for your very kind words. I always think that despite his describing himself as having a resentful nature, Darcy really is an all too forgiving soul, otherwise how could he have continued putting up with Wickham the way he did? So I thought just a touch of pity was appropriate. And of course, now that we are at the end, I hope that while the detail was limited, the futures of the sisters was enough to assuage your curiosity.

As always all feedback, even if a story has been up for a while is appreciated. So if you please take this last chance to review, as that for me is certainly the most informative form of feedback as well as the most rewarding. Anyway, I'm diving back into my other stories, neglected as I finished this one, and I hope to have something new ready before too terribly long (though I am a rather slow writer).