Jane and Bingley, their house cleared of guests save Caroline, at last knew relative peace. Lest the newlyweds grow bored at Netherfield without murder and mayhem to fill their days, Mrs. Bennet’s frequent visits and the servants’ misguided eagerness worked in concert to keep life interesting. As soon as spring arrived, they undertook with alacrity the search for a new home.
Juliet Kendall enjoyed increased popularity following the Parrish scandal. In the convenient memory of the ton she was credited with having been the first to recognize the scoundrel for what he was. By the middle of the following season, she married a gentleman of moderate means who found her disposition bearable, and perhaps sweeter for the sizable inheritance that came with it. They settled in Sussex and never bothered the Bingleys again.
Professor Randolph managed to escape guilt by association with Mr. Parrish, and was generally considered another unfortunate victim of the rogue’s duplicity. Aided by the patronage of Lord Chatfield, and Mr. Darcy’s suggestion that he would do well to keep his specialty quiet, he secured a position as the British Museum’s first resident archeologist. He immediately commenced planning his next expedition, an investigation into several standing stone ruins in the north country.
Darcy, having witnessed with his own eyes the supernatural effects of the rings, was forced to concede to Elizabeth that there were things of this world that transcend the ability of science to explain. He continued, however, to believe in the superiority of reason over intuition. He also continued to train with his fencing master whenever business summoned him to London, in the unlikely event that he would ever again be called upon to defend himself with a fire poker.
Elizabeth met the demands of her new role as mistress of Pemberley with grace and aptitude. Her days were busy, but she took pleasure in the occupation. As time passed and the intrigue at Netherfield faded into memory, she could hardly believe herself that the eerie events she’d experienced had been more than a chapter in a gothic novel. She was content to set aside thoughts of plots and portents for more mundane concerns: the simple pleasures of home and hearth, and a new husband whose devotion to her was matched only by the affection she bore for him.
In quiet moments, however, she sometimes withdrew Professor Randolph’s amulet and pondered his parting words to her. “I believe you have a gift,” he had said. “A very powerful one. Should you ever choose to cultivate it, let me know.”
Perhaps one day she would.