The sleepy little boy nodded and muttered, “Yes, I had enough marryment for one day.” 

Kitty smiled, ruffled his flaxen curls, and said, “That is not what Mary meant, poppet.”

Before the guests departed, the three brides retrieved their wedding bouquets; and each plucked a bloom to be pressed and saved as a memento of the special day. Georgiana then sought Miss Darcy and handed her sister the arrangement of pink peonies. “Dearest, I want you to have this; yet it does not follow that you must be the next to marry. Promise me you will wait until you are ready and absolutely certain of doing so for love.” She caressed Anna’s cheek and said, “Whoever he may be, your future husband will be a very fortunate man; and I hope you will be as content as I shall be with Ellis. I love you, Anna, and shall miss you desperately; so you must promise to write often and keep me informed of the further adventures of Barb Thorne and Herr/Fraulein Stewart.” 

“I will, Georgie … ” Anna’s eyes welled with unshed tears. “ … and you must send me news of Dust Bunny and Pug-Nacious.” The younger sister was downcast and lowered her gaze as she spoke. “But I suppose married women have never much time for writing.” 

“Nonsense! I shall write so regularly, you will quickly become quite sick of hearing from me.” 

“Oh, no, never! I shall miss you very, very much!” Anna flung her arms around Georgiana and held tight. “When shall we meet again, do you suppose?” 

“You know full well that Ellis and I are not going so very far away at all. We will be visiting Pemberley frequently, and you must come stay with us whenever it pleases you. I am delighted you have chosen to accept the offer from our brother and Lizzy, so please write and tell me of your journey. But now, dearest sister, I must start my own journey as Mrs. Fleming. My husband is waiting for me.” She offered a hand to her sibling. “Come and wave good-bye, Anna. I want to see your beloved face as Ellis and I pull away from Pemberley.” 

Across the room Jane Fitzwilliam carried on a very similar conversation with Mary Bennet and passed her the bouquet of Damask roses. Miss Bennet’s expression was wistful as she said, “Oh, Jane, there is someone I hope may make me an offer some day in the future. I realize I am far too young yet, but … ” 

“Mary! Who is this wonderful young fellow? I know he must be a singular gentleman to have captured your regard. Am I acquainted with him? Is he, perhaps, a brother of one of your seminary friends? I am all curiosity.” 

Mary smiled enigmatically and shook her head. “I shall not disclose his identity yet, other than to say you are acquainted with him. Now go.” She giggled and continued, “Your handsome barbarian is waiting for you.” Jane kissed her sister’s cheek, and they walked hand in hand to where Richard impatiently waited for his bride. 

Miss de Bourgh was surprised when she was presented with Elizabeth Darcy’s wedding bouquet of roses. “Lizzy, how sweet … and prophetic too … albeit a tad tardy. Thank you, cousin.” 

“A tad tardy prophetically? Anne Catriona de Bourgh, is there something I should know?” 

“Well, I am unsure if Charles wants anyone else to be informed as yet. He is asking Mother for permission as we speak. Oh, good grief! She is very fond of our Mr. Bing, so I hope she does not assume he is actually proposing to her.” 

“Anne! Do be serious. Did Mr. Bingley truly make you an offer?” 

“Yes, indeed … one I could not refuse, complete with an emerald. Do you want your roses back?” 

“Silly goose. May I see the emerald?” 

Miss de Bourgh held out her left hand and wiggled her fourth finger. “It is an en-gag-ment ring.” 

“Do you mean an engagement ring? It is very beautiful.” 

“Well, yes, it is certainly that. However, I almost gagged and broke a tooth because it was in my slice of wedding cake. Ergo, it shall be named en-gag-ment ring from this day forward.” 

“I would still prefer to call it an engagement ring, Anne; but as Shakespeare said, ‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.’ Congratulations, my friend. I am very happy for both of you.” 

They hugged. “Thank you, Lizzy, and thank you also for the bouquet of roses. The gesture was very thoughtful of you. Speaking of roses, being married to my impeccable cousin shall not be a bed of them, you know.” 

“Every rose has its thorn.” 

“Yes, but if Fitzwilliam’s behaviour becomes obnoxious, you must promise me to nip it in the bud.” 

“I cannot, even in my wildest dreams, imagine Fitzwilliam ever being obnoxious. Nonetheless, since we were speaking of gardening, I do remember he once had a green thumb, green hair, green shirt, and …” 

The rich, resonant voice of her husband startled Elizabeth, and she jumped. “Ladies, I am almost afraid to ask about your pre-seeding conversation. When you two speak with one another, I never know the ground rules and am always garden my comments. I feel quite green and must pro-seed by trowel and error.” 

“You heard?” his wife guiltily asked. 

“Every word after ‘speaking of roses.’ Did I miss anything noteworthy prior to that?” 

Anne waggled her left hand in front of his face. “I am en-gagged. I have snagged and bagged Bingley.” 

“Ah! My best wishes then, Annie.” He bent to give her a hug and to kiss her cheek. “Poor Bingley! I hope my wretched friend shall take time to smell the roses once in a while.” He was duly rewarded by a pinch on his arm.

All guests had at last departed Pemberley except for the six newlyweds and their families. The Colonel’s fine new carriage, a wedding gift from his parents, stood at the drive ready to carry its owner and his wife to well-appointed Waterstone Inn, where the bride and groom would remain for ten cozy nights before journeying to London to stay at Matlock Manor while Richard finalized the resignation of his commission. The couple would subsequently travel to Kent and settle at Rosings Park. Leave had already been taken of the Bennets and Darcys, and Richard and Jane stood chatting with the Fitzwilliam family. 

Viscount Wentletrap, the Colonel’s older brother, had a relatively enjoyable afternoon quaffing more than his share of Mr. Gardiner’s generous contribution to the festivities. As he bent to kiss his new sister’s hand for the third time that day, he nearly keeled over and took Jane with him. 

With quick reflexes, the Colonel rescued them before they took a tumble. “Whoa there, James! Steady, man. Sorry, darling Jane, but I believe my brother is as drunk and wobbly as a wheelbarrow.”