Page 143 of The Crown’s Gift

On the carriage ride to Netherfield, Anne sat between her parents.

"Grandpapa said knowledge is inheritance," she said. "Could we teach every Pemberley family what to do? Not only the schoolchildren."

Darcy reached for Elizabeth's hand. "We can."

"The servants too."

"Everyone," Elizabeth said.

At Pemberley that winter, the estate physician gave practical lessons in the great hall. Farmers, housemaids, footmen, tenant wives, stable boys, and the Darcy children practiced responses to choking, burns, broken limbs, and fever. Hazelwood adopted the lessons. Mary arranged the same through her London parish. Lydia carried written instructions to Portsmouth.

No proclamation required it. No royal grant paid for it. The practice travelled through families because one frightening moment had taught them the cost of waiting.

Months later, Sir Thomas received a note from Matthew written in careful schoolroom hand.

Dear Sir Thomas,

I chew my apples twenty times. I showed my sister what Miss Darcy did, but we used a cushion because Mother said not to choke anyone for practice. I am glad the King ate his sugar plum because then Miss Darcy knew how to save me. I am sorry the King choked.

Sir Thomas read it twice and placed it beneath the framed royal message.

Elizabeth found the letter during a later visit.

"He understands the story," she said.

"Better than Mr Lucas did."

"That is a low standard."

"Useful standards often are."

Outside the library, grandchildren and pupils crossed Netherfield's lawn beneath the growing oak. Sir Thomas closed the drawer but left the door open.

The lesson had travelled farther than the gift.

EPILOGUE

A Crown Well Spent

Sir Thomas Bennet lived to see the oak at Netherfield rise above the nursery windows.

On his seventy-fifth birthday, every daughter returned home.

Jane arrived first from Hazelwood with Bingley and four children. Mary came from London carrying a new score and followed by Mr Avery, who had learned to protect manuscript pages from weather and children. Kitty descended from the estate office with ink on one hand. Lydia's carriage arrived late, loud, and burdened with naval souvenirs. Elizabeth and Darcy travelled from Pemberley with Anne, Eleanor, and George.

Lady Bennet stood on the portico counting everyone as if afraid one might have been lost on the drive.

"Thirty-two for dinner," she said. "No, thirty-three. Colonel Fitzwilliam has brought his wife. Mr Bennet, we need another leaf in the table."

"The table has survived worse."

"Not thirty-three."

"It survived our daughters."

The day unfolded without ceremony. Children raced through the park. Mary and Georgiana played together as confidently as they once feared one another. Kitty showed Anne how to mix the green of oak leaves. Lydia organized a game, changed its rules twice, and accused Darcy of winning through silence.

After dinner, the grandchildren demanded the King's story.