A/N: To all my readers: Thank you for reading this last chapter of Unfathomable. This has been a multi-year journey and I am relieved (and saddened) it is over. As mentioned in my last post I will continue writing but not post on Teaching English Abroad or any other work until it is finished (or very close to it). I just can't keep up the schedule I'd like. I have appreciated all the comments, encouragement, well wishes, and yes, even the criticism. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this tale.

Recap: Mr. Darcy proposes to Elizabeth and she accepts. There is a delightful dinner at the Gardiners where a certain colonel expresses his potential admiration for a certain friend of Elizabeth.

Chapter 30: An Epilogue in Letters and Scenes

Two Months Later

March 2, 1812

My dear Elizabeth,

Felicitations on your nuptials. It is possible that today as you read this is the happiest of days. I have not a firm grasp on the length of time to post from here. However, I do believe that if I quiet my thoughts I can hear your mother's exaltations...

I possess three letters - three! - from you, treasured friend, in which you instruct me not to worry about missing your wedding but alas, I am severely disappointed in myself. I often think back onto my conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam in your aunt's drawing room. (It is inconceivable that it was two months ago; it feels as if it just transpired.)

The gentleman advised me to delay my post as governess to be able to attend you. I said that it was impossible for me to delay - or some such dismissive statement - for in fact I believed that it was. I have come to fear that it may have been the most important message that I have ever had the misfortune to disregard. Yes, I am tending to melodrama, a state for which only you Elizabeth will understand that I sometimes succumb. (However, as my dearest friend, I am reassured that you will not breathe a word to anyone about this. Ever.) Not only did I ignore the petition of a most amiable gentleman who was kind enough to point out a truth - that it would be easier to attend if I was unencumbered by a position - but I am melancholic at the thought of being unable to witness your happiness.

There is another reason; one that I am hesitant to mention to you. I fear I must, however. Two days ago, while accompanying Henry and Eleanor to the children's lending library I was greeted in the street by Mr. Wickham. I assure you it took all my self-possession to speak with him. I wanted nothing more than to be a man so I could hit him square in the chin. Or spit on his boots. But I digress...

Mr. Wickham was everything solicitous and expressed a desire to see me again. I acknowledged the children as my charges, erasing any misconception he might have held about their identity - and my own. Still, he persisted in his request for me to meet him. I will have you know Elizabeth that I flatly refused to acknowledge his petition.

I expected this to be the end of our acquaintance but this morning he called upon Mrs. Milford. I was in the nursery with the children but one of the maids alerted me to his presence. She said that a handsome man had mentioned me by name to Mrs. Milford. I felt I should warn her immediately about his unsavory past but you know my brief history of troubles with the staff. I do not know what is best. Elizabeth, I desire your counsel. Please instruct me as to what is to be done. Should I tell the maids of Wickham? And what if he continues to call? He must not know that Miss Darcy confided in me about his wicked past. This would be so much easier if you could simply mount the fence in the south field and be here in twenty minutes time.

Wistfully (and impatiently waiting your response even though you may be on your way to Pemberley),

Charlotte

March 7, 1812

"Well?"

"Well?"

"You know quite perfectly what I am asking."

"Perhaps I do, however, I wish to hear you say it."

Fitzwilliam Darcy eyed his new bride. "Shall we depart?" He was tired. He was unable to make another pleasantry sound genuine. And most importantly he desired time alone with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiled at him with the upturned lips that had mesmerized him months before. "You do not wish to be rude to my mother, do you?

Two months had taught him to recognize her teasing with more regularity. He had even taken to attempting some of his own. "I will tell her you swooned and I gallantly attended you."

Elizabeth laughed gaily. "She would let me to my fits and keep you. Your escape would take treble the time you intend." She touched his arm. "But yes, let us take our leave. I do need to speak with you about something, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy's smile grew even larger at the sound of his own name. "Yes, Elizabeth?"

"Once we are in the carriage," she chided gently. She reached up and caressed his cheek and Darcy met her hand with his own, holding her against him.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he whispered and before she could respond with an endearment of her own he leaned down and kissed her softly.

Elizabeth blushed, stunned for a moment by his love and her love for him. "I love you too, Fitzwilliam."

March 7, 1812

Fitzwilliam,

Wickham is in Yorkshire, in the hamlet of Simon-on-Meeth. Mrs. Darcy has received a letter from Miss Lucas. I will not instruct you as to your course, but do send a letter once it is accomplished.

F.D.

March 12, 1812

Dear Jane,

I was all astonishment to receive a letter from you on what was supposed to be my honeymoon! (You do know I am teasing, dearest. I am pleased to have heard from my favorite sister, and especially with such felicitous news.) May I be the first Darcy to offer congratulations to the future Mrs. Bingley. Mr. Bingley did not, nay could not, remove his eyes from your person during the wedding. I have never been more convinced of a happy match. You simply must come visit us at Pemberley as soon as you are able.

It is very different walking through the halls of Pemberley now that it is my home. I left it in such dramatic circumstances and returned in such happy ones. The staff have been prodigiously kind to me and it helps that I made many of their acquaintances while a guest there in December. Fitzwilliam has encouraged me to redecorate my suite to suit my taste. I hardly know what to do, to tell you the truth. Perhaps I should consult your soon-to-be sister? I am sure Miss Bingley would provide ample instruction to me in my time of need.

Georgiana and I have been enjoying ourselves immensely, though she and I are both adjusting to her brother's claim upon my attentions. He threatens to kidnap me and take me abroad. Georgiana threatens the same. A balance will be achieved, I am sure.

I also will confess that it is a novelty to spend so much time with a man who is not our father. Fitzwilliam and I have spent hours talking, discussing books, politics, and a myriad of other interesting topics. I find my mind quite stimulated.

I am happy, Jane. Truly happy.

Yours,

Elizabeth Darcy

March 14, 1812

Dear Mrs. Darcy,

How extraordinary to address you so! I am so glad to hear of your happiness. I only hope to be with you soon to express my joy in person.

It has been an extraordinary series of days. I hardly know what to say to you. Let us be done with the first event. I am safe from Wickham. The maids are safe from Wickham. Please be easy. I am told he will be dispatched to the Americas.

A few days after I wrote to you he happened upon me as I was leaving church. He tipped his hat but did not approach me as I was shepherding the children into the carriage. My employer took note, however, and gave me a strong lecture on rakes and men who do not mean what they say. I took your advice Elizabeth and mentioned my acquaintance with Mr. Wickham and that I did not trust the man. I gave no particulars but somehow still flattered Mrs. Milford's opinion of herself. She kept muttering that she was an excellent judge of character.

Just yesterday, I was in the village again visiting the milliner. Mrs. Milford had sent me to inquire about a hat she had admired and I took the assignment to escape the house for a bit. It has been most strange to adapt to the family schedule of another family. Mr. Wickham came into the shop as Mr. Smith was waiting upon me. He must have been watching me, Elizabeth. There was not one minute between my entrance and his.

He spoke of how glad he was to meet me again and suggested we walk towards the church. I made my excuses and took my leave as soon as I could, leaving an angry Mr. Smith who had not secured my promise that Mrs. Milford would purchase the hat if it could be crafted in the blue taffeta. Fie! What trivialities! I made straight for the Milfords' residence but it soon became clear that Mr. Wickham was pursuing me.

Elizabeth, I was terrified to tell the truth of it. But as I thought of Mr. Wickham's forward behavior, I grew bold. Who was this vile man to be bullying me so? I decided to address his misbehavior in public, in the village, before I had entered the environs that would be less populated. I stopped, entered the street proper, and turned toward him. He smiled at me, with an insolent smile I wanted to slap off of his face, and asked how his favorite heiress was doing.

I was flabbergasted. From where could he have heard I was an heiress? And did he not realize that an heiress would not take a position as a governess? I stared for a full moment before disabusing him of the silly notion.

He stood, nonplussed I rather think, and then grinned again. It was another ridiculous grin, Elizabeth. I was madder by the second. He then advanced to me, speaking only when he was standing in front of me.

Elizabeth, I shudder re-telling his words. "I think you owe me for that lie, Miss Lucas," he said. He made a grab at my person and I am not ashamed to say that I slapped him.

The next moments are still a blur for me, my dear Elizabeth, but to skip some suspense, let me announce that I am now Mrs. Charlotte Fitzwilliam.

I know this is such a backward way of telling a story but in truth, I wished to shout it from the first sentence and so you are lucky indeed that I waited this long. The colonel, or Richard as he has asked me to call him, had come to Simon-on-Meeth due to the urging of your good husband. He had only just arrived when he came upon Mr. Wickham and me in the street.

Mr. Wickham spluttered at me after I slapped him (quite soundly across his left cheek) and grabbed my wrist to drag me off of the street. Richard suddenly appeared and without a word to me, stood between Mr. Wickham and myself, effectively separating us. The men shouted at each other for some length as I tried to make sense of the situation. At one point, Mr. Wickham starting spouting nonsense about he and I being engaged. Richard turned to me with a look of pure bewilderment. I have since chastised him for believing Mr. Wickham's falsehood. It was at this moment I found my voice.

I indignantly replied that I was not engaged to Mr. Wickham. Richard smiled at me and said he was very glad to hear that. He then turned to Mr. Wickham and announced that I was not engaged to marry him and it was his intention to marry me. I was stunned at his proclamation - simply stunned.

Wickham laughed at this and my new husband hit him soundly on the jaw. Mr. Wickham melted into the street. You might think me silly Elizabeth, but at that moment I became quite the romantic. Richard apologized for the scene and said he was in earnest that he wished to marry me. I tried to dissuade him but my husband is very determined. We left for Gretna Green by nightfall.

Richard assures me we will visit you and your husband shortly. I hope you do not judge me for my hasty marriage, Elizabeth. I am most content with my situation. I was never made to be a governess.

Love,

Charlotte Fitzwilliam

One Year Later

March 30, 1813

Dear Charlotte,

I have finally found the book that I could not find when you and Cousin Richard were here last month! I have enclosed it with my best wishes. Fitzwilliam thinks it nonsense that our impending arrival is affecting my mind but I feel as if I have taken leave of my senses. I refuse to believe this is a permanent change! Ease my mind and tell me you are beginning to feel the same. If you are not, I fear it will come upon you soon!

I have received a letter from Jane. She and Charles do not plan on renewing their lease on Netherfield. I believe my mother's daily trips were trying even for her sweet temper. They are currently in London with plans to look for a new country home. My dear husband has suggested his friend consider Derbyshire. I was too pleased by the suggestion to chide him on his interference.

Thank you for your suggestion to invite Kitty to Pemberley. I have found my sister much altered since last year. She is now a mature young woman. She recognizes that Mr. Collins jilting her was a fortunate escape. Kitty and Georgiana have achieved a friendship of mutual affection in a short period of time. This has helped assuage my feelings of neglect for Georgiana. You know how she has been jealous of my time with Fitzwilliam and now with the baby due to arrive any day, I have been conscious of her need for attention. Kitty and Georgiana help each other with that need.

Please give Cousin Richard our love and let me know what you think of the book.

Love, Elizabeth

April 2, 1813

"Well?" He asked, panic in his eyes as well as his voice.

"Mrs. Darcy wishes you to come into her bedroom." Mrs. Reynolds smile could grow no larger.

Darcy ran a hand through his hair. He had been worried sick about his wife. She had labored for many hours and he was constantly chased out of the room by his sister and Mrs. Reynolds. "Elizabeth," he whispered as he crossed the threshold and approached her bed. The sky blue velvet curtains were drawn back and his wife was reclining against several pillows.

"Fitzwilliam," she said softly. Her voice was scratchy and he heard her fatigue as much as he saw it.

Darcy reached for her hand which was grasping a bundle of blankets to her chest and squeezed it gently. He looked into his wife's eyes. "Well?"

"Do you not wish to guess?" she asked.

"I cannot," he said. "I will be happy with either, as we discussed." He looked again at the bundle. "Is this Jacob or Emilia?"

Elizabeth smiled at him, a tear forming at the corner of her eye. "Fitzwilliam, you have a son. This is Jacob."

A sigh escaped him and he felt his chest tighten. A son. "May I?" he asked. When she nodded, he pulled back a corner of the blanket, revealing a pink face and a spate of tiny black curls.

"Hello, Jacob," he said.