Page 3 of He Taught Me to Hope (Darcy and the Young Knight’s Quest #1)

T he fact of the matter was that there truly was nothing in the world she would not do for her son. Her unwavering devotion explained why she had found herself engaged to be married to Mr. Geoffrey Collins.

She often wondered whether she was doing the right thing.

Except by reputation, Elizabeth hardly knew the man to whom she was betrothed.

She had met him just under a week before she consented to be his wife.

It matters not. I am doing the only thing I can, if I am to give my son the life he needs, as well as be of some service to my family, Elizabeth tried to convince herself as she placed the candle on her bedside table.

She climbed into bed, retrieved her book, and flipped through the pages to where she had left off earlier in the day.

How my life has changed! Elizabeth looked about the bedroom in the place she once again called home, less than a quarter of the size of the apartment she had called her own for the past five years.

The bed was less than half the size of the one she slept in just weeks before.

But then again, it was her childhood home, the house in which she had spent the entirety of her youth.

My son will spend some of his childhood under this roof as well, at least until my marriage to Mr. Collins .

Instead of dwelling upon the uncertain prospect of what her future as Mrs. Geoffrey Collins might entail, she endeavoured to focus upon her book.

“What is the use?” Elizabeth voiced in a soft whisper, wishing not to awaken Jane as she quietly slept in her own bed a few feet away. Elizabeth gently closed her book, blew out the candles and drew the covers over her head.

As she had done most nights since her return, before finally drifting off to sleep, she recollected the events that had brought her back to Longbourn just under a month earlier.

Elizabeth thought back to the time when she had once been considered by all who knew her to be the favourite of her father’s five daughters.

She could no longer lay claim to such a distinction.

Indeed, he had never forgiven her for eschewing his counsel and accepting Mr. Randall Carlton’s hand in marriage.

Although over five years earlier, Elizabeth recalled her father’s words as if he had spoken them just the day before.

“Lizzy,” he had said, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be accepting this young man?” His anguish had been evident as he paced the floor.

“That he cares for you, I have no doubt. Nor am I surprised by his request, as I have admired the friendship the two of you have shared since you were children. But Lizzy, asking for your hand in marriage is what I might have expected of him four to five years hence. My God! He is a young man who is just coming into his own. He has had no opportunity to travel, to see the world, to sow his wild oats as young men his age ought.”

“Have you any other objection than your belief that Mr. Carlton is not yet ready to be a faithful husband?”

“Indeed, it is my utmost concern. How can I condone what I know is destined to bring you unhappiness? Your lively talents threaten to leave you in the greatest danger of a miserable alliance should the tender regard he now feels towards you turn into bitterness and resentment for the carefree days of young manhood that were denied him.”

“I cannot embrace your sentiments in this respect. I am certain he knows his own mind. He cares for me as I care for him. He has offered me a good home, a good life, and a secure future.”

“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have many fine clothes and fine carriages. But will you be happy?”

“I am happy. I am very happy,” Elizabeth had declared resolutely.

“I fear you are too young, too innocent to grasp my meaning. He is a young man of nineteen. I implore you; do anything but cause him to grow resentful of you as he comes to know all he has given up.”

“You speak as though I am unworthy of him!”

“Do not misunderstand me, my child. You are of an age where it is generally expected a young woman might wish to marry. But it is different for a young man. Young men of his age and station in life are expected to celebrate their youth, not tie themselves down in wedlock. I know all too well the dangers to a young man who rushes into marriage with his heart and not his head. I only ask you to wait.”

Any reservations her mother had entertained in seeing her second daughter married before the first, she kept to herself.

With four other daughters for whom her primary aim in life was finding rich husbands, she had considered it an act of divine intervention when she learnt her least favourite, and the one she believed she would have the most trouble marrying off, had found a husband on her own.

Her choice had not been a poor one. Despite the entail on his family’s estate and his being merely a second son, he was the heir-apparent to a substantial fortune on his mother’s side.

Not one to bother himself with taking a strong position one way or another, with Mrs. Bennet’s overwhelming enthusiasm for the match and Elizabeth’s steadfast determination to defy him, in the end Mr. Bennet did not oppose the wedding.

With that said, he had done nothing to promote the alliance or to attend to his daughter’s future security in the negotiations of a proper marriage settlement.

I doubt I shall ever forget the disappointment I felt on the eve of my nuptials , Elizabeth considered as she lowered the bedcover from her head and sat up and cradled her knees to her chest. Whilst everyone else at Longbourn celebrated my upcoming wedding, Papa remained secluded in his library.

Elizabeth recalled venturing in to see him, to reassure him her decision had not been made lightly.

He simply stared out the window into the darkness of the night throughout my speech.

“Will you not even look at me, Papa? It pains me to see how my impending marriage is affecting you. I never intended to distress you. I am exceedingly happy. I wish you would be happy for me.”

Upon turning to face her, he had studied her intently, as if seeing his favourite child for the last time.

Finally, Mr. Bennet could not have uttered a harsher sentiment according to Elizabeth’s way of thinking.

“Should you persist in this foolhardy endeavour, then you shall be known as a stranger in this home.”

To that day, Elizabeth had held fast in her gratitude to her dearest Uncle Gardiner, for it was he who had escorted her down the aisle.

Sadly, Elizabeth rarely recalled the joyousness she had felt on the day of her wedding without immediately bringing to mind the circumstances soon after.

She had enjoyed only the briefest of wedded bliss with young Randall Carlton.

One month to the day after her wedding, she had received the news no young bride would want to hear. There had been an accident.

Not yet eighteen, she had become a young widow, filled with sorrow.

She had felt abandoned, robbed, and entirely on her own.

Indeed, it was her father-in-law who travelled to Bath to bring her back to Hertfordshire.

Deeply saddened himself by the death of his youngest son, his sole comfort had been in the notion that his new daughter might return to his home and live with him.

God willing, she and his son might have conceived a child.

The elder Mr. Carlton had experienced his share of grief.

His dear wife had suffered the same fate as his beloved son some two years earlier.

His first-born son, from his first marriage and the true heir to Camberworth had become a stranger to him; such was the son’s vehement disdain over his father having married again so soon upon the heels of his first wife’s death.

Having reached the age of majority and secure in the knowledge of his inheritance owing to the entail of Camberworth, Carlton’s eldest son, Henry, went his own way.

He had not seen his father or his younger brother in nearly a decade. He had no wish to see them.

Young Randall had been the apple of his father’s eye.

When he told his father of his plans to marry Elizabeth, Mr. Carlton had been so filled with hope.

A woman gracing the halls of Camberworth would be something.

Once again, his house would be a home. He had known Miss Elizabeth Bennet all her life.

He held her in considerable esteem. It had mattered not in the least to him that she brought little to the marriage to his son by way of a dowry.

Though the bulk of the Carlton’s fortune was tied up in property, and an infusion of available capital might have helped, his fortune had been more than sufficient.

Any reservations he might have suffered in thinking his son too young for such a step, he had brushed aside.

His son had been smitten with Elizabeth ever since the days of their youth.

He had no doubt of the extent of his son’s love for Elizabeth for it was evidenced on his face whenever he beheld her.

The older gentleman would love her, as well, as the daughter he always wanted but never had.

The birth of his grandson just eight months later had been the answer to his fervent prayers.

Despite the rift that continued to exist between Elizabeth and her own father, Mr. Carlton had been extremely honoured by her choice of name for his only grandchild.

The child had been christened with the first name of Bennet, in honour of her family, and Randall Carlton in honour of his own beloved son’s memory .