Author's Note – Disregard Alternate Ending 1 Epilogue as it does not apply to this ending. Thank you!

Epilogue

Hester Bennet received the information from Simon as coolly as her calmest nerves permitted, and once he left the drawing room, she broke down into a mess of tears and weight guilt crushing her soul and spirit. Dabbing at the tears wetting her face, she composed herself and discovered the new Hester uncovered through Loftus's cruel distance and complete disregard for her emotional well-being.

Two days passed since her children departed for Derbyshire leaving just herself and Lydia at Longbourn with Loftus Bennet and staff. Her own thoughts and emotions became her worst enemy without the distraction of her children.

The strong Hester who didn't need her husband anymore. The strong Hester scared her and pushed her toward something she never thought she'd approach with any shred of seriousness.

At a young age, she and her sister joked about marrying a rich husband and discreetly killing him to inherit his vast wealth and estate. It became an inside joke that dwindled away over time, especially as each child she birthed was an adorable little girl.

Her daughters grew into their own people, and she loved each one dearly for who they were.

Mary marrying Mr. Collins and securing Longbourn in the Bennet bloodline made her proud but she'd never admit that to anyone. An odd child, Mary. Mary took to the church and its teachings like a true adherent and shamed the rest of the family in comparison.

And Jane hiding the proposal and wedding! How had she wronged her daughter for her daughter to not trust her with this? Where had she strayed that her own children whispered behind her back and plotted against her and their own futures? Oh, the woes piled the more she dwelled, and she cast it aside with a gleeful idea.

They had a slight problem with mice, as the current cat failed to keep the mouse invasion in check. If she used the mouse poison-

No. Too obvious.

Stop! She could not – would not violate the line between hatred and murder. Husband and wife were not mortal enemies.

She paced her bedroom in barely restrained frustration. Visiting her sister and nephews and nieces might bring solace to her now quiet existence. Lydia escaped to Lucas Lodge to spend the afternoon with Maria Lucas, a smart move on her part, Hester decided in resignation.

Pulling at her hair, she almost called for Sarah when she stopped and remembered what Simon shared with her. Four months pregnant with Loftus's child. She ought to drag the peasant back by her-

Clenching her fists, she distracted herself by the current needlepoint, flowers in a pleasing design circling the first letter of her last name. The longer she stared at the B the longer she regret marrying Loftus Bennet. At first the marriage was quiet and agreeable. Simon was a trying child and she always thought he'd turn on her as he aged. Loftus always suggested that half-siblings treated their female half-siblings as 'less than' and then acted surprised when she feared her stepson.

Oh, certainly children could have big, warm hearts, and grow into strong young men respectable in all they do.

Gentlemen with the motive of keeping wealth to themselves altered the perspective radically. As the only legitimate male heir, he could cast all of from Longbourn on his father's death and society would brush it off after a year. It was his estate then, and they should accept it – society would say.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she reached for the smelling salts.

No. She would not rely on these. She was stronger. She could control herself without losing herself in the hysterics.

A piercing scream jolted her out of the seat, and she stumbled over her own feet to reach the first floor. Lucy backed out of the personal study clutching a tilted tray. A shattered teapot and steaming coffee stained across the area carpet imported from India trailed to Loftus Bennet beneath a pile of scattered books haphazardly layered over the still body.

Mrs. Bennet sunk to her knees in disbelief.

She didn't do this. She had no hand.

"Heart attack. Must be." She whispered in shock.

"You shouldn't see this, Ma'am." Mrs. Hill lifted her off the floor with surprising strength.

She walked along with the gentle guidance of the stern-faced woman who endured her abuse over the years without complaint. Her lips moved but no sound came out.

She hadn't been serious when plotting her husband's death. It was just a fanciful, vengeful idea that made her feel better in the heat of the moment! Her chest tightened, and something worse than regret roared to life.

Fear.

What if Simon cast her out of the home?

Mrs. Hill suggested she lie down while the staff handled the affairs necessary to alert the authorities and retrieved Lydia from Lucas Lodge. She nodded along consenting blindly. Somewhere in between her husband's body being removed and the investigators speaking with the servants in the vestibule, she found the will to leave the drawing room and slip into the kitchen for a strong cup of tea to root herself back to reality and its sobering consequences.

The weight of her troubled marriage fell away into a grief she hadn't fully embraced.

She'd miss the bastard as much as she hated herself for missing him.

Ten Years Later

"Is your mother attending this year?" Fitzwilliam Darcy asked his frazzled wife while she lifted their three-year-old daughter in her arms and tickled her upon request. A mess of brown hair and a gap-toothed grin, three-year-old Prudence begged for more all the while peels of innocent giggles lit up the large play room.

Servants helped decorate the house for the upcoming Christmas, Lydia and Kitty pitching in to pass the time due to the roads being difficult for travel and their companions trapped at home.

"She is traveling with Simon, Beatrice, and the children." Elizabeth answered.

Setting her daughter on the floor and ignoring Prudence's pleas for more play, she sat down and rested her tired feet. Managing her odd off and on friendship with Caroline Bingley turned into a task nearing on complete confusion. One moment they were exchanging letters three times a week, and then Caroline would stop writing for weeks at time. She suspected Mr. Young prevented Caroline from writing out of spite for Mr. Bingley refusing an acquaintance with him. Jane and Caroline Young nee Bingley were never alone in a room at the same time, and Jane always claimed a headache if Mr. Young was in company and kept to her room or sought out other activities away from the gentleman. She invited Caroline to visit, excluding Mr. Young by stating that the gentlemen would not be present at Pemberley, except Caroline refused the invitation stating her health was poor and she would visit after the holidays.

Mr. Bingley and Jane were unable to travel with their infant son.

Mary begged forgiveness as Mr. Collins needed to tend to his duties in Hunsford and she could not bear the thought of spending the holiday apart from him. While repulsed by the idea of Mr. Collins as a romantic interest, she adored Mary's happiness and attachment to a husband who highly esteemed her.

Fitzwilliam spun his daughter in a circle and set her down at her least balanced. She stumbled and was lowered to the floor by her father, who grinned as if he stole candy from the pantry without permission (Yes, Elizabeth forbade his sweet tooth!)

"My most beautiful Lizzy." He cozied up to her.

Her brow cocked. "What do you want?"

He feigned shock. "Me?"

Her lips threatened to spread into a full smile. "Yes, you."

He ran his hand through her lowered hair. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on and I want absolutely nothing more than I already have." He kissed her forehead and turned his head toward the window. A carriage slogged its way up the drive through the flattened snow. The undisturbed snow surrounding the drive painted a serene winter landscape.

Picking up a book she tried to finish and was simply bored with, Elizabeth thumbed through the pages before placing it back down in frustration. She read through Pemberley's library and the current book – borrowed from her close neighbors – defied her growing appetite for literature. It flattened her hopes in reaching her goal of reading over fifty books that year, poorly written or not.

"Your family is here." He announced, recognizing the Longbourn flag that Simon said he would fly if the weather was impossible during travel. The crimson colors stood out against the white, browns, and blues. "Prepare the blankets."

"Emmie!" Prudence squealed upon recognition.

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam smiled at her. "Yes, but not just Emmie. William and Rose will be with them."

"Yay! Can we go now? Please!"

Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Soon. They have not yet reached the veranda."

Scene Break

At the age of 13, William read aloud to the carriage passengers. His little sisters ignored him and cuddled into their mother and father's arms and the blankets covering their laps. Dowager Hester Bennet stared out the window and almost dozed off, shivering every so often.

A chill permeated the carriage despite the measures they took too hold it off.

"Are we there yet?" Emmeline asked Simon.

He hasn't told her the truth about her lineage, and he never intended to. She wasn't 'his' child in the sense she came from his loins. In every other sense, he was her father and she was his beloved daughter. She was still going to be loved and raised at Longbourn and afforded a dowry to make it a desirable lure for respectable, worthy young men. His stepmother refused to acknowledge Loftus Bennet's multiple extramarital affairs out of the blind hope the bastard born children would cease to exist.

"No." He brushed his hand over her hair.

She slapped his hand away.

He smirked and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders exposing his ankles to the cold. He didn't mind. Sick children were the worst and he wanted his children to be happy as possible, especially given how he grew up. "Remember, when we arrive you will behave yourselves."

"Yes, father." William stopped his reading and rubbed his hands together before stuffing them in his armpits.

"Rose, that means no kicking people in the shins."

"Yes, father." A big, bright smile covered Rose's slender face. She took after him more than Beatrice, but she had Beatrice's sharp eyes – eyes that could make the mightiest of men cringe with a simple glance.

He frowned. "I mean it."

"I know." She clutched her mother's arm and buried her face in the long fluffy scarf resisting the creeping chill.

They slid to a stop and spotted the snow spotted steps leading up to Pemberley's grand entrance.

"Wait your turn." Beatrice warned the children as they clambered for space again.

Simon made eye contact with Hester Bennet and nodded. She nodded back.

They kept the peace at Longbourn and every public appearance, but the past scars lingered like sour milk between them. For the next week, they would be pretending to be the mildest of acquaintances.

Simon exited the carriage last and carried the blankets in his arms. He walked up the slippery steps picking his way cautiously, openly relieved when they reached the top and an exuberant Prudence Darcy ran out to greet them and nearly topple Emmie to the ground.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that a warm home and expanse of snow-covered grounds would occupy them instead of the past being dug up in innocent company.

Author's Note – I originally planned for an ending where Mr. Bennet was admitted for being declared insane, but I do not think that the ending plausible nor do I have the knowledge to properly write that ending. I have created the first ending that gives a happy ending, and this ending, which is also a happy ending. In both, Mr. Bennet receives due justice for his crimes. Thank you for reading this fanfiction. I know it has been an imperfect journey and I look forward to tying up the loose ends with Mary/Mr. Collins, Lydia, Kitty, etc. in an offshoot collection of one shots or short stories. This is the main arc. In a separate fanfiction, the collection of one shots and short stories will cover all the loose ends and maybe include fluff as the holidays near and I want to reflect and celebrate them.

For those who were unhappy with the way this was written – there are other authors out there you may enjoy more, and I encourage you to find them. For those who enjoyed this story, I am glad to have amused you. For those who thought it was too dark, I gift you these two happy endings. I understand the feeling of being depressed by a dark story. I did not run out of plot – this was the plot – Mr. Bennet was the villain and he was conquered, and everyone enjoys a happy ever after.

I do have a one-shot crossover of P&P and Ready or Not half written and that will be posted before Thanksgiving.

I was requested to write a Purge fanfic that will likely be a short story and that will distract me away from P&P for a short spell.

I also need to step away, get a breath of fresh air, and then return with a different inspiration. I have two ideas that are out of the box but incorporate P&P, the first being P&P crossover with the Purge universe and the second being P&P featuring vampires and potentially lycans. Both ideas would have dark plots with possible character deaths.

If you're interested in reading either idea, cast your vote or PM me and let me. I will likely do both, but I cannot write both of them at the same time.

Sincerely Yours,

The Unpredictable Muse