Before the other guests’ arrival, the army officer had been summoned to his uncle’s study where Lord Matlock, Lady Catherine, and their family solicitor informed him of his inheritance. When Sir Lewis shuffled off his mortal coil ten years previously, he had been the final male member of the de Bourgh line. His will stipulated should his marriage produce no male heir, Rosings Park would be bequeathed to his wife’s closest untitled male relation not already in possession of an estate upon that man reaching the responsible age of eight and twenty. In his widow’s opinion, the stipulation was an heir-brained one; and although Lady Catherine did not have the willpower to contest the testament on Anne’s behalf, her disapproval was clearly evident. The mournful expression on the woman’s face was a dead giveaway – which, coincidentally, might also morbidly be considered the definition of a will. 

Wealth can be a rather touchy subject; so when the Bennet family arrived, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was still reeling from the disclosure of his legacy, requested a few private moments with his fiancée in order to inform her of their sudden good fortune. Jane was elated by Richard’s information but not by reason of his newly gained riches. The young lady was, in actuality, more relieved by the fact her husband-to-be would soon resign from his dangerous soldiering occupation. That he was also very well endowed was a just another advantage to which she could look forward. The Colonel’s heart filled with joy, knowing his bride cared more for his safety than for property; and because love can also be a rather touchy subject, the happy couple took advantage of their privacy before joining the others. The well-endowed officer was warned, however, to not dare leave another brand on her skin, as Jane had not the foresight to bring along the high-necked fichu she had used to previously cover the mark he had left behind. 

At the massive dining room table, between courses, announcements were made and toasts were given to those being honoured that evening. The Earl of Matlock made public the news of his second son’s good fortune; and, with the vintage champagne contributed to the festivities by Mr. Edward Gardiner, he proposed a toast. “The Fitzwilliam family motto is ‘Let your desires obey your reason’. Yet I am proud Richard had reason to obey his desire for gaining the hand of such a lovely young lady as Miss Bennet. So, let us now pay tribute to his good reason, the anniversary of his birth, his inheritance, and his engagement.” The Earl lifted his glass and looked to where the Colonel and his beautiful fiancée sat side-by-side. “To quote an Irish blessing, ‘May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past’. Ladies and gentlemen, to Richard and his Miss Jane Bennet!” 

The others lifted their drinks into the air; and replies of “Hear! Hear!” “Three cheers!” and “Hip, hip, hurrah!” were heard around the table as guests touched glasses. 

Lord Matlock then gestured to his eldest son, Viscount Wentletrap, who rose and and happily announced Isabelle was finally expecting their first child. Everyone was pleased by the news, and many were especially gladdened to see the usually surly James smile and kiss his wife’s hand. The two exchanged an affectionate glance, and again glasses were raised in congratulation. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a new baby in the family means many changes are necessary; and five months from that very evening, the couple became doting parents and a much more loving couple upon the birth of a healthy heir. 

Next, George Darcy stood and said, “I have heard it said ‘Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart;’ and I have first-hand knowledge this is true.” He gazed fondly at Lady Anne and then continued, “I am delighted to welcome into our family the two extraordinary young people who have captured the hearts of my son and my eldest daughter. Marriages made for love are surely heaven sent. Then again, so are thunder, lightning, hurricanes, and hail. So, may all their troubles be merely tempests in teacups. Family and friends, please join me in toasting the upcoming marriages of Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Fitzwilliam and Mr. Ellis Fleming to Georgiana.” Best wishes and the sound of clinking crystal filled the room. 

Between the fourth and fifth courses, Mr. Bennet arose and said, “First, I must mention both my future sons-in-law are as fine fellows as ever I saw; and I am prodigiously proud of them for choosing such remarkable women for their brides. As I grow older, my lovely wife often reminds me I am an incurable rheumatic; so I wish to pay tribute to our three happy couples by quoting Homer: ‘There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.’ May you long confound your enemies and continue to delight us with your love.” He was about to raise his glass but remembered to add, “Oh, and if a stalemate is ever a problem, I hope you will be as patient as my dear Mrs. Bennet, who frequently has to listen to me tell the same jokes over and over.” 

With the various wines served during meal courses, and all the champagne toasts, Charles Bingley, seated next to Anne de Bourgh, had become a wee bit foxed; but he stood and proposed his own toast to his three friends and their fiancées. “‘No sooner met but they looked; so sooner looked but they loved; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage.’ William Shakespeare wrote those lines, and I just recited them from As You Like It. But why is it we recite at a play and play at a recital? Sorry. I became lost in thought, and it was unfamiliar territory. In fact, I spent half my time here attempting to come up with something witty to say, so I am obviously a half-wit. Please do not pore over my words, but pour more champagne, and let us drink to my very fortunate friends and their poor, unfortunate brides.” 

After dinner, the ladies left the gentlemen to their port and made their way to the music room, where the prodigiously accomplished Miss Mary Bennet entertained them with Beethoven’s Pathetique. Servants carried in trays of sweets, tea, coffee, and hot chocolate; and Mrs. Bennet, who was especially fond of the latter beverage, remarked, “Men are like chocolate … sweet, smooth, and usually head right for your hips.” She immediately blushed upon realizing she was in very refined company but was gratified when all the other women laughed, even Lady Rebecca Fitzwilliam and the medicated Lady Catherine de Bourgh. 

The gentlemen did not linger in the dining room but joined the ladies during the second movement of the sonata. When Mary’s exemplary performance was completed and appreciatively applauded, Fitzwilliam Darcy asked his betrothed if she would care to take a stroll in the garden with him. The night was crisp and clear, and he wanted to spend time with her under the stars and perhaps share a kiss. He helped Elizabeth bundle up in her pelisse and said, “You realize, love, when we reside in Northumberland during the winters, we may have to forsake the great outdoors for the grate indoors. The weather will be colder than that to which you are accustomed. While we can, let us take advantage of this fi-nite and do some stargazing.” 

They walked in the garden, arm-in-arm, away from the light of the windows in order to better see the night sky. Darcy settled Lizzy in his arms with her back against his chest and spoke softly near her ear. “Among your other amazing accomplishments, are you also an amateur astronomer, Elizabeth?” When she shook her head, he pointed toward to a point of light in the sky and said, “That, my dear, is the dog star.” 

“Are you certain, Fitzwilliam? I do hope you are not teasing me, for this stellar lesson must be absolutely Sirius.” She turned to face him, and he knew he was about to be teased by the glint in her eyes, the arch of her brow, and the sassy smile he loved so much. “Hmm, Mr. Darcy, I wonder what would be the correct term for a mutual physical force attracting two bodies. But again, the gravity of the matter must not be taken lightly.” 

“Ha, hardy har. I thought you said you had no knowledge of astronomy.” 

“Well, my father did teach me a bit, sir. So allow me to test your own stellar knowledge. Which constellation is also an Irishman’s drink?” 

Darcy searched for a possibility, but having Elizabeth in his embrace distracted his thoughts. “I shall probably kick myself when I hear this. What is the answer?” 

“O’Ryan’s Belt. Really, Fitzwilliam, your knowledge of heavenly bodies is certainly not a force with which to be reckoned.” 

“I must not decide on my own performance.” He wrapped his arms firmly around her and continued, “However, you were correct heavenly bodies have a very strong attractive force, Lizzy.” 

She giggled and said, “Why do I have the feeling you are no longer speaking of celestial objects, sir?” 

“You are a very quick learner, sweetheart, and I am starry eyed. Astronomy lesson over – anatomy lesson next. Kiss me and discover the affect you have on my poor heart. It races whenever you are near, and …” 

A footman’s “Ahem” cut through the night and pulled the young lovers apart. “Excuse me, Miss, but you are needed inside. Lady Anne and Miss Darcy request your opinion on some wedding arrangements.” 

The chaste kiss he had bestowed upon Elizabeth amongst the branches of the oak tree in the park had merely whetted Darcy’s appetite for more, and he had anticipated and planned for their first passionate one to be that evening under the stars. An embarrassed and contrite footman, who stood fifteen feet away, could hear the gentleman’s frustrated sigh. 

Elizabeth felt the exasperated exhalation ruffle the curls atop her head. “Sorry, Fitzwilliam. We were lucky to have those few moments alone. There are still many last-minute details to be considered before we all leave Town for Derbyshire.” 

“I fail to understand why you have to be so personally involved. Our mothers, together with Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds at Pemberley, are taking care of all the preparations for the ceremony and celebration.” 

“I do not believe I have ever seen you pout before, Mr. Darcy. You look like a spoiled little boy, and I hope our sons will look just like their father.” 

“Sons, Elizabeth? How many children do you foresee in our future? Similar to your parents, we may be blessed with five lovely daughters before an heir arrives.” 

“If such is the case, we shall simply have to keep trying. As I said before, practice makes perfect, Mr. Darcy; and I know you do strive for perfection.” 

Bingley had not corresponded with his sister during the first two blissful weeks of her absence. To be perfectly honest, due to being so wrapped up in rapt attention to Anne de Bourgh, he had not given much thought at all to Caroline. So when a letter finally arrived from Staffordshire, Charles was only a trifle curious why it might be in his aunt’s slapdash and slipshod handwriting rather than his sister’s fastidious penmanship; however, he was more than a trifle peeved, grieved, and discontent with its content.