Page 28 of He Taught Me to Hope (Darcy and the Young Knight’s Quest #1)
I f Elizabeth would but admit it, even to no one but herself, she would confess she had come to look forward to her early morning encounters with Mr. Darcy along the sheltered path.
Following his going away, what had become her favourite pathway suddenly seemed desolate and lonely.
The warmth that infused the air when she had first glimpsed his fine stature approaching her from a distance was no more.
The weather somehow had turned cold; the skies, at first bright and promising, now seemed dark and forbidding.
In the wake of such quiet isolation, the only sounds she was aware of were the chirping of the blackbirds inhabiting the trees, the sole witnesses to the scene that had just occurred—yet another act in the tragedy of timing that was her life.
Mr. Darcy offered his hand in marriage. He is in love with me, most ardently. How painfully sad it is to be promised to someone else when the perfect one comes along.
Utterly forlorn, Elizabeth walked along, tightly cradled in her own embrace as if the whole world had turned its back on her.
She knew it would be quite a while before she headed back to the parsonage.
What she needed was time; time enough to persuade herself she had done the honourable thing in refusing Mr. Darcy.
Even as she silently recited the motives for her selfless actions, she could not satisfy the unabated questions of her heart.
Indeed, my decision was the right thing to do. Why then does everything feel so wrong?
Mr. Darcy—in love with me! So much so he would honour my wish to allow me to pursue my own path .
Such was the only comforting thought she could muster as once again, Elizabeth outlined the many reasons her decision to push Darcy away was the right thing to do.
Her own sense of decency and propriety aside, she thought of her family back in Hertfordshire.
To throw caution to the wind and follow Mr. Darcy, very well meant disappointing her family’s hopes.
Having defied her father once, to have accepted Mr. Darcy’s proposal would have been tantamount to defying him yet again.
She had not yet regained his good opinion.
Did she want to sever any lingering possibility she might reclaim his esteem?
The scandal of a broken engagement which would have ensued might be a cause for concern as well, although not so much for Elizabeth, for the worse she would suffer was to be labelled a jilt.
Whilst she could bear it, what of the consequences for her four sisters, all of whom had decidedly poor prospects already? Did she wish to endure such guilt?
By the end of her ramble, she had managed to convince herself she indeed had done the right thing in ignoring her heart and listening to her head; albeit, not without some cost. Already, she sensed her independent spirit waning as she reached to unlatch the parsonage gate.
Elizabeth managed a weak smile which would continue to grace her countenance as she went through the motions of her day—surrogate mother of the twins, extended house-guest of her dear friend Charlotte, and dutiful betrothed of Mr. Geoffrey Collins.
Her life as devoted mother of her beloved son was the sole thing she embraced.
It was, in fact, the very reason for her being.
Darcy found Richard in the stables, the latter having just returned from a strenuous solitary ride about the countryside.
Richard sensed something was not quite right, for Darcy had not looked so forlorn since before his discovery that the lovely Mrs. Carlton and her young son were in residence at the parsonage.
“Pray tell Darcy, you look as though you have lost your best friend in the world. What has happened to bring about this change? Did Collins decide to run off with Mrs. Carlton to Gretna Green before you could persuade her against the marriage?”
“Not exactly, wise old man. I came down here to tell you of my decision to leave Kent tomorrow.”
“This is rather sudden, is it not? What happened to your plans for Mrs. Carlton? What prompted you to change your mind?”
“I have not changed my mind. Elizabeth and her son mean everything to me. In fact, I made her an offer this morning, which she refused.”
“An offer? What sort of offer does a man make to a woman who is already promised to another?” Richard asked, hoping Darcy had not proposed the foremost thing in his own somewhat world-weary mind.
Darcy paused for a moment before responding to his cousin.
Is that why Elizabeth asked if I were offering to make her my mistress?
Have my intentions towards her of late been so unclear?
Since that wonderful morning spent with Ben and her, I have not as much as placed my hands on hers.
I have done everything in my power to keep up a respectable distance between us and to regard her as would a gentleman who was not violently in love.
Richard cleared his throat to gain Darcy’s attention. “Have you heard a single word I have said?”
“Suffice it to say I offered her all I have, and she refused me. She is honourable. I cannot fault her decision. It is who she is, and a part of why I am so in love with her,” Darcy responded.
“Then you have given up and chosen instead to leave.”
“I am honouring her wish by doing the only thing she has ever asked of me. ”
“Be that as it may, I do not imagine Lady Catherine and Anne will be very pleased with your decision to take your leave, especially since you have yet to satisfy their wishes.”
“Believe me when I say that pleasing either of those two is the farthest thing from my mind, from this point on. I intend to make that clear this evening. My greatest concern now is for Elizabeth and Ben, and how I might be there for them should they ever need me. I fear she is as stubborn and proud as she is honourable and loyal. She might not reach out to me, should it ever come to that.” Somehow, I must find a way to let her know I will always be there for the two of them, he silently voiced.
Some time had passed since the Hunsford party was last invited to dine at Rosings.
Lady Catherine was determined not to put her nephew in the company of the beautiful young widow, whom he could not manage to take his eyes off for more than a few minutes at a time.
Subtle words during dinner regarding his inattention to Anne over the past weeks and his preoccupation with the entertainment of young Bennet Carlton, even at the risk of usurping Mr. Collins’s rightful place, turned into full-blown admonishments after dinner when the family gathered in the drawing room.
After fifteen minutes or so, Darcy had heard enough and determined to put an end to the harsh discourse, for the last time.
“Lady Catherine, you have insulted me in every possible way. You can now have nothing further to say. In spite of the considerable pain, I must inform you of my decision to break all ties with both Anne and you.” Darcy turned to face his cousin.
“I never wished to hurt you, Anne. However, you know, as well as does Lady Catherine, I never intended to marry you. I never offered you my hand, and the carelessly spoken words I uttered last autumn were nothing more than an inane attempt to revive you from what I then believed to be death’s door.
I shall leave Rosings tomorrow. I am sorry if this distresses you, but I shall never cross its threshold again. ”
Anne grew even paler in the wake of her cousin’s harsh words.
She quickly arose from her chair, threatening to collapse from the shock of it all.
Before she could raise her hand to her head to swoon, Darcy declared, “Give it a rest, Anne! I am exhausted by your convenient malady. Fall sick again if you will, but you will sooner see death than you will see my face again.”
Lady Catherine’s mouth shot wide open! She was appalled.
She walked over to Anne’s side and placed her hand on her shoulder.
“Leave us now, daughter, whilst I speak with your cousin,” said she.
She then directed her attention to Mrs. Jenkinson, Anne’s companion, “Please return with my daughter to her room and see to it she rests.”
Grateful to escape the unpleasant scene unfolding before her eyes, Mrs. Jenkinson did as she was told by offering assistance to Anne, who brokered no argument.
The moment they were outside the room, Anne stationed herself near the doors, which she had left slightly ajar, especially for the purpose of bearing witness to the stern reproach her cousin was destined to receive.
“How dare you speak to your cousin in such a despicable manner and utter such idle threats?” Lady Catherine demanded. “To do as you suggest would surely dishonour your own family.”
“My decision is no more dishonourable than your threatening to announce in the papers that Anne and I are engaged when you know it to be a falsehood. Though it is one thing for members of my family to consider it a possibility in light of my late mother’s own wish, it is entirely another to have such foolishness widely circulated amongst society. ”
“Heaven and earth! You are a grown man of eight and twenty with responsibilities to uphold as master of Pemberley. Do you not think it is beyond the time you consider marriage? Why should you not marry Anne, just as well as any other?”
“The answer is simple. I do not love Anne, not in the way a man should love his wife. I have been in love. Hell, I am in love! I will not settle for anything less than love! ”