Page 16 of He Taught Me to Hope (Darcy and the Young Knight’s Quest #1)

E lizabeth placed a loving hand on her son’s shoulder to awaken him.

Within minutes, they were set to arrive at the parsonage in Hunsford.

Elizabeth’s anxiety was no match for the considerable trepidation Ben suffered in anticipation of the visit.

He was to meet his future sisters—nay, stepsisters as he eagerly pointed out time and again to his mother.

Secondly, he was to get reacquainted with his future stepfather.

Ben had not been nearly so impressed with Mr. Geoffrey Collins as had been his relatives, when he had made his acquaintance some months earlier at Longbourn.

To Ben’s way of thinking, the gentleman had absolutely no sense of adventure.

Try as he might in engaging the newcomer with talk of the Arthurian legend and adventures of the Knights of the Round Table, all his entreaties had met with deaf ears.

When Ben inquired of him, “Perchance you know of Meleagant ?”

Mr. Collins replied, “Pray tell me, son, who is Meleagant ?”

“Oh, it is of no consequence,” Ben responded coyly. Who is Meleagant, indeed? Why you sir, Ben thought to himself. No wonder Ben had precious little use for the gentleman from then on. He had endeavoured to maintain a comfortable distance for the remainder of Mr. Collins’s stay at Longbourn.

The arrival of their carriage at the parsonage coincided with the emergence of the bright afternoon sun.

At last, the steady rain had ceased, and the dark clouds that hovered over them during the entire journey from town had parted.

Elizabeth took that as a sign everything would work out for the best. An eager receiving line had assembled in front of the gate of the parsonage to greet them.

There was Mr. and Mrs. William Collins, the former endeavouring to exhibit a modicum of decorum that befit his overly inflated sense of himself, and the latter, whose genuine smile was gleeful.

Alongside of them stood Mr. Geoffrey Collins, who towered above everyone with his tall person and handsome mien.

Gillian and Emily, two charming young girls, stood at his side.

Geoffrey Collins eagerly positioned himself to hand down his intended as soon as the carriage came to a halt. He was very reluctant to release her hand after having bestowed upon it a light kiss. Her response was not at all unreceptive. It was a favourable beginning. He was pleased.

Darcy sat in his study nursing a large glass of brandy while he stared into the fire and awaited his cousin’s arrival.

It turned out the decision to spend Easter at Rosings Park had been made for him.

Just that morning, he had received an urgent plea from Kent.

Anne’s health had failed. The prognosis was not good. He was obliged to attend her.

He recalled an earlier missive from his aunt talking of the parson and his bride from Hertfordshire.

S he makes no mention of a son. Perhaps I was mistaken in thinking there might be a connection between Elizabeth and young Sir Lancelot.

Not that it mattered. Darcy had determined against returning to Hertfordshire to clear up the mystery of the young child’s maternity.

He did not want to know the truth of the matter, for he felt surely no benefit would be derived from such knowledge. She was promised to another.

Hours later, Darcy found himself on the road to Kent with his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. It seemed to Darcy his cousin was suffering quite a bit of enjoyment by the sound of his own voice.

Immediately upon entering the carriage, Richard proclaimed, “Let us hope we reach Kent in record time, my friend. It is a shame to think our dear cousin Anne might pass away whilst we are on the way and not have you by her bedside as she breathes her last breath on this earth.” The snide smirk that graced his countenance could scarcely be contained.

“I fail to see the humour in your speech,” Darcy responded gravely. “This is hardly a laughable affair.”

“Of course it is! How convenient is it that Anne has suffered this unfortunate relapse at this time. When last you and I spoke on the matter, you were resolved you would not travel to Kent this spring. Yet, here we are in a carriage en route with all haste to Rosings Park.”

“If you would bother to recall correctly, I had not decided one way or the other. Besides, Anne suffers a wholly unrelated affliction this time. Our aunt says Anne’s health has suffered a slow and steady decline since Christmas, when they travelled to town to visit me.”

“In other words, you are entirely to blame for Anne’s grave illness.

Thank you for explaining it to me so fully,” Richard derided, giving Darcy a sense of the utter foolishness of it all.

Darcy said nothing. He decided it was prudent to avoid providing his clever cousin any added fodder for mirth at his own expense.

How he wished his cousin would tire of hearing his own voice, especially as he began to expound on the many ways Darcy might rouse his cousin from her sick-bed. Heaven forbid!

After a spell, Darcy was relieved his talkative cousin had been lulled to sleep by the combination of his own reticence towards being drawn into meaningless debate and the steady pour of rain and silent streams of raindrops on the windowpanes of the carriage. It gave Darcy a chance to think .

What might it be like to see her again—knowing she is married to that ridiculous man, desiring her as much as ever, longing to be near her?

Darcy thought back to the last time he had laid eyes upon her.

He recalled his astonishment in being attacked by the preposterous man and in being caught entirely off guard by the gentleman’s audacity to introduce himself during the Netherfield ball.

He recollected his using the words “apology,” “Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh” whilst eyeing him with unrestrained wonder.

When at last Mr. Collins had allowed him time to speak, Darcy recalled replying with an air of distant civility.

The mortification Darcy had espied on Elizabeth’s face, after moving as far away from the odious man as quickly and as abruptly as conceivably possible, was priceless. What is she thinking?

It is done! Elizabeth has married that foolish man. She has made her bed, and now she must lie in it. Immediately upon thinking such thoughts, he wished he had not allowed his mind to venture there. He groaned aloud with the mere prospect of it all.

Mr. and Mr. Collins brought up the rear as all the Hunsford party enjoyed a leisurely stroll on the day after Elizabeth and Ben’s arrival.

Evidence of spring abounded with a colourful array of blossoming trees, faint scents of freshly budding flowers, and the delightful sightings of nature’s smallest creatures.

It afforded the perfect opportunity to escape the somewhat restrictive confines of the parsonage.

The elder gentleman’s mind was anywhere but on the conversation with his brother.

What on earth is he talking about now? I love my younger brother, honestly I do.

However, I will be unable to account for my actions should he persist in these sycophantic ramblings on the subject of his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh .

He endeavoured to turn his attentions towards his lovely betrothed, who strolled just ahead of him, arm in arm with his new sister-in-law.

How exceedingly envious he was of Charlotte at that moment.

Elizabeth and I have shared the same living quarters for nearly twenty-four hours, and yet I have had not one moment alone with her.

I wish to know everything about her. There is only so much one can glean from letters.

Patience. Perhaps this evening, once the children have gone to bed, and my brother and his wife have done likewise, I shall have some time alone with her.

As to the children, I am gladdened, indeed, by the warmth and kindness she has bestowed on Gillian and Emily.

They like her very much. I suspect she returns their regard.

I shall endeavour to bestow an equal measure of attention towards young Ben.

Upon deeper reflection, Mr. Collins surmised, He is quite an impertinent young child and profoundly in want of a firm hand and strict discipline such that his mother is unable to provide.

All in due time, Collins considered. All in due time.

Elizabeth was far more attuned to the conversation with her dear friend Charlotte, than was the aforementioned gentleman with his own walking companion.

She had missed Charlotte dearly. Indeed, she had found Hertfordshire rather lonely since Jane had returned to town with their Uncle and Aunt Gardiner after Christmas.

Elizabeth was delighted with the prospect of spending time with sensible female companionship.

She spoke to Charlotte of the heartbreak Jane had suffered what with Mr. Bingley’s precipitous departure from Netherfield Park.

He had not even bothered to say goodbye, and in so doing he had left the neighbourhood with the general impression her dear sister had been badly used.

Charlotte could not help thinking, far better it is Jane who is crossed in love than I.

Indeed, she considered how providential it was that she interceded as she did in turning Mr. William Collins’s head away from his fair cousin.

Otherwise, Jane might surely have been the new mistress of the parsonage by then, while she would have been at Lucas Lodge and a burden to her family.

At seven and twenty, she rightfully had perceived it as being her last chance.

Even her own family had given up all hope she should ever marry.

She had known not whether to be pleased or annoyed by her brothers’ exuberance over the announcement of her engagement.

Charlotte also recalled how fervently her friend Elizabeth had tried to dissuade her from accepting Mr. Collins’s hand in marriage.

Elizabeth of all people, she recalled. Not everyone could be as fortunate as could she.

While it was true Mr. Bennet had coerced her into accepting the elder Mr. Collins, one had but to look at him!

Charlotte could recall only one other man of her recent acquaintance who might even compare to her new brother— Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire.

As I recall, he seemed enamoured of my dear friend, as well.

Indeed, not everyone can be as fortunate as can Elizabeth.

Gillian and Emily unhurriedly walked a few paces ahead of Elizabeth and Charlotte.

It had been a long time since they had taken a leisurely stroll merely for the sake of diversion, not since the death of their mother three years earlier.

From what they could recall of their beloved mama, she had been an avid walker and had enjoyed being out and about in the open air.

Their governess, being an older woman, did not relish time spent out of doors, and so the girls largely were confined to indoor pursuits, both in town and in the country.

How different their lives would be with their new mother, they both sensed.

They could not help looking at young Ben Carlton with a sense of awe and wonder at his eager imagination.

Their feelings were the mixture of a sense of uncertainty and curiosity about the young boy, more than four years their junior.

What amount of terror might he unleash on their otherwise quiet and reserved household?

They recalled hearing their dear father speak to their governess about the wild and unruly behaviour of the younger Bennet daughters and how he was glad his daughters had yet to travel with him to Longbourn and thus be exposed to the unseemly young women.

Questions persisted in the girls’ impressionable young minds.

Is Ben anything like his mother’s younger sisters?

Ben exhibited a certain amount of disinterest in the twins.

Their initial introduction, just the day before, had sparked his curiosity causing him to conclude the two looked just alike, but did not engage him so much as to bother to devise any means of telling them apart.

What difference did it signify to him? They were girls. Poor Ben had his fill of girls.

It was a good thing he had remembered to bring his magnificent steed along on the journey to Hunsford, he considered.

It offered him the ideal pretext to gallop ahead of his party without giving offence.

Ben decided to cut an uncharted path through the forest for a bit of adventure.

What he saw brought him to an abrupt standstill.

The opening of the trees just up ahead afforded the glimpse of towering bulbous-capped domes, sky reaching grand pillars, dazzling expanses of windows, glazing that shone like gold, and magnificent castled walls reflecting the sun’s fiery tints as far as his eyes could see.

The reflection lakes that etched paths through gardens with spectacular bedding brought to the young fellow’s mind flowing river streams. Ben had dreamt of this special place for as long as he could remember.

He released the reins of his fierce makeshift stallion and speedily raced back to his mother’s side. He grabbed a hold of her hand and urged her to follow him. “Come quickly, Mama!”

Elizabeth hurriedly broke away from the rest of the party to indulge her son’s latest flight of fantasy. “Ben, what is it? What have you discovered?”

“Look Mama, just up ahead! It is Camelot!”