Page 15 of It Taught Me to Hope
“W hat is the meaning of this interruption?” demanded Mr. Mason at once before anyone else could speak. “Miss Bennet and I have no need of you at present. Leave at once!”
“How dare you!”
Elizabeth’s anger, never of the explosive variety, simmered at this wretched excuse for a man. Though having kept her distance from him in wariness, she stalked toward him and took position face to face, arms folded as she tapped her foot on the floor, its staccato beat doing more to fan the flames of her fury than settle her. Mr. Mason regarded her first with astonishment then with growing ire of his own, but Elizabeth was not about to allow him to spew his foul words again.
“By what right do you order my friends from my home, you odious man? Have you no sense of common decency?”
“I do so by the right of my position as your fiancé,” said Mr. Mason. “This impertinence of yours is beyond the pale—it seems my aunts must do to reform your character than I hoped.”
Whatever the gentleman expected, his chiseled jaw in response to her harsh laughter showed it was not dark mirth mixed with contempt.
“Mr. Collins was a ridiculous man, his proposal all that was absurd and offensive, but not even he stooped to assuming an engagement when I rejected him. If my reply to your proposal was not a direct rejection, the sentiment was clear, even to a dullard. Should that not be enough to prompt you to desist, let me tell you at once that I do not accept your proposal, and you shall never prevail on me to do so, even if you should offer it a thousand times. Yours is now my fourth proposal, and I would not marry you any more than I would marry any of the previous men who sued for my hand.
“Furthermore, I will tell you that the Darcys are my dear friends and are welcome at Longbourn whenever they wish. Though it should be clear by now, even to one so lost in his selfish concerns as you, they are far more welcome at Longbourn than you are.”
What might have happened then, Elizabeth could not say. Mr. Mason had always appeared the bored gentleman, one almost listless even when he plied her with his curious version of ardent courting. Yet at that moment, Elizabeth thought his rage rendered him capable of anything, such that she could not predict what he might do. Before he could so much as move a muscle, however, Mr. Darcy loomed before Elizabeth, inserting himself between her person and the irate form of her supposed suitor. Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw John step into the room. While John did not approach further, he stood ready to intervene should Mr. Mason prove violent.
“So, it is as I suspected,” rasped Mr. Mason, staring down Mr. Darcy as if he could intimidate him.
The notion of a confrontation between them was outrageous, for Mr. Darcy was a tall man, possessing broad shoulders and an athletic frame, while Mr. Mason was puny, standing only a little taller than Georgiana, who watched the scene with contempt for the meager gentleman. Mr. Mason considered the difference between them, for while he glared at Mr. Darcy, he made no move against him.
“You wish to claim Longbourn for yourself.”
“My motivations are not the issue here,” said Mr. Darcy, his tone not giving an inch. “The question before us is whether you, as a gentleman, will bow out now that the lady has refused your suit.”
“So you can swoop in and offer your own?”
Mr. Mason did not understand the wry smile that graced Mr. Darcy’s lips, though Elizabeth and Georgiana did. “Though you will not credit it, I do not intend to offer for Miss Bennet now. What the future will hold for us I cannot say. As for the estate, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me, yet it is a most precious jewel for what it means to Miss Bennet. Your purpose here is clear, Mason, for you saw nothing but the chance to increase your holdings. Miss Bennet is far more than an easy avenue to enhanced consequence.”
“Spare me your lectures,” retorted Mr. Mason. “I have no need of them. Even if I did not consider your motivations to be the mirror of mine, I would not care for your opinion.”
“Nor did I suppose you would. The matter at hand, however, is still Miss Bennet’s rejection of your suit. You now have no other option but to retreat, for to continue to press her is not the act of a man who claims to be a gentleman.”
“Perhaps I want an explanation of her reasons.”
Elizabeth could not believe what she was hearing. “Did I not make my sentiments plain? Mr. Mason, it is not my intention to offend, but I am a woman who has always determined to marry for nothing but affection. I have no such feeling in my heart for you, and you did not attempt to provoke it. Even if I did not consider your sentiments and your reasons for pursuing me to be insufficient, still my lack of love for you would prevent my consent. Can I be any plainer than this?”
The way Mr. Mason regarded her, Elizabeth was certain he attempted to evaluate the measure of her resolve. As Elizabeth had nothing to hide from him, she gazed back without expression, suspecting that apparent disinterest would be more effective than further denunciation or refusal. When the man’s lips curled with disgust and disdain, Elizabeth knew he had received her message.
“Very well,” spat the man. “You are a perfect candidate for the spinsterhood that lies at your door, Miss Bennet. I shall leave you to it, for I suspect this man will not stoop so low as to offer to rescue you from that fate.”
So saying, Mr. Mason stalked from the room, leaving silence in his wake. John followed him to ensure he departed at once, and in the wake of his going, Mrs. Hill entered, clucking over the scene that had just played out in the room.
“Come, Sarah,” said she, beckoning to the maid who had remained in the corner, “let us leave Miss Bennet to her visit with her friends. Miss Bennet, I shall send for a tea service and some cakes.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hill,” Elizabeth offered her warm thanks to her long-serving housekeeper. “You are a treasure, as always.”
“What an odious man!” exclaimed Georgiana as the servants departed. “The thought that you will remain a spinster is nonsensical, for even Mr. Mason seemed to understand my brother’s interest.”
“Perhaps you are correct, Georgiana,” said Mr. Darcy. “But I shall not assume my success until I have Miss Bennet’s approval in hand.”
“Let us not consider such subjects for the moment,” said Elizabeth, a sudden weariness sweeping over her. “Come, let us sit and you may tell me how you came to rescue me from the odious Mr. Mason.”
“The how of it is simple and more than a little pedestrian, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Darcy and his sister settled onto a nearby sofa at Elizabeth’s invitation. “Georgiana and I had determined to come this morning for no other purpose than a morning visit. That we arrived at the exact moment Mason turned belligerent was nothing more than providence.
“If you do not mind,” added Mr. Darcy, “I will own that I am more than a little curious.”
“Yes?”
“This business of you rejecting four proposals, Miss Bennet. I know of three, including this morning’s excitement, but I have not heard of the fourth. Will you not explain?”
Elizabeth allowed her mirth free expression, noting how Mr. Darcy looked on with bemusement, his sister with diversion, though not understanding the reason for it.
“No, I do not suppose you would ,” said Elizabeth. “The reason is that my fourth proposal was my first .”
“Do not leave us in suspense, Elizabeth!” exclaimed Georgiana. “What do you mean?”
“When I was perhaps five, I was playing with some of the nearby children, including the heir of Netherfield Park. As a child I was, you understand, a little wild, always playing with the boys, for I found their play more interesting. What provoked it I do not know, but the boy demanded that I marry him. You may imagine my answer to such an impromptu proposal.”
The Darcys joined her in expressing their mirth.
“Yes, I can well understand it!” exclaimed Georgiana. “Can I suppose it was as pointed and caustic as your refusal of Mr. Mason?”
“Not at all! At five, I had no interest in marriage, and less in giving up my independence. To that proposal, I responded with more disgust than acid.”
“As expected of anyone that age,” said Mr. Darcy. He eyed her, a slight smile playing about his lips, and asked: “Then can I suppose your words to Mason were in earnest? Was his the worst proposal, displacing my own?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I dare say it was the worst of all. Mr. Collins’s might even have eclipsed yours, for what I said to you in Hunsford, may have contained just a hint of hyperbole.”
“Then I am grateful, indeed,” replied the gentleman. “In truth, I had some notion of Mason’s purpose, which is not at all surprising, and a suspicion as to his timing.”
“Oh?” asked Elizabeth, though she knew to what he referred. “Are you a prognosticator, Mr. Darcy, or did you read his intentions enough to understand him?”
“Neither,” replied the gentleman, enjoying their banter. “I attended a gathering of the local gentleman last week at Netherfield, and Mason was not hesitant to inform me with much relish of his intention toward you. Had he spoken of his wish to have you as a wife and something of his endeavors to provoke your good opinion, it might have given more credence to his assertions. As it was, he spoke of it as a fait accompli.”
“It was William’s meeting with Mr. Mason that led me to report what we suspected to you,” added Georgiana.
Anger once again descended over Elizabeth’s eyes. Mr. Mason might not be so far away from Longbourn yet that she could not catch him and deliver further retribution for his insult. As it was, the notion of never setting eyes on him again was welcome, allowing her to curb her murderous feelings.
“There is nothing he could say or do that would have induced me to accept him,” declared Elizabeth. “I have not known him to be so contemptible as this, but there are few men I consider less likely to provoke my approval.”
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T HOUGH DARCY KNEW SHE had not spoken to censure, the similarity of her words struck him, reminding him of her comments on a like occasion many years before. Georgiana spoke at that moment, and the two ladies carried the burden of the conversation for some time, Darcy immersed in remembrance of that event and the implications of her comment. It was human nature to consider matters in absolutes when confronted by the heightened emotions of a significant event, and Darcy suspected the confrontation with her latest objectionable suitor provoked her current sentiments. What he could not quite fathom was the influence this would have on his current yet nascent intention to pay court to her. Nothing, he supposed, but his past with this woman imbued with a sense of caution he did not think out of place.
“You have been silent for several moments, Mr. Darcy.”
Miss Bennet’s comment drew Darcy from his recollections. “I suppose I have been considering the morning’s events and their resemblance to another day in another parlor, one a day’s journey south of here.”
Regarding him quizzically, Miss Bennet said: “What do you mean?”
“The turn of your phrase caught my attention,” said Darcy, now feeling more than a little uneasy. “‘You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it. I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.’”
The widening of Miss Bennet’s eyes informed Darcy that she recognized those words as well as he did himself. Unwilling to allow her to chastise herself for having uttered them, Darcy essayed to speak before she could offer an apology.
“I do not remind you of those words to dredge any further ill feelings between us. Yet I recognized your choice of words in what you said of Mason, and it recalled our previous interactions to my mind. Further, I wondered what effect Mason’s ill-fated proposal might have on my purpose for coming to Hertfordshire.”
“You said that to my brother?” demanded Georgiana.
Miss Bennet pinked with embarrassment, but she did not deny it. “I was angry and shocked, Georgiana. Perhaps I should have been more temperate.”
“Not at all, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. “The provocation was all on my side, and you responded in kind.”
“That is most dreadful, Elizabeth,” said Georgiana, this time the glint of amusement in her eyes, especially when she looked at Darcy. “Had I known of it I do not know if I could have understood, for anyone saying such things about my brother was incomprehensible. Now that I know something of what provoked it, I understand you, though I was not aware relations were that discordant between you.”
“That argument kept me from Miss Bennet for six years, Georgiana,” replied Darcy. “It would not have deterred me if it had not been a most mortifying and humbling experience, and that does not even consider my knowledge of what Miss Bennet thought of me.”
“Your letter dealt with most of my misconceptions,” said Miss Bennet.
“Would you have accepted me even then? Had I come to you soon thereafter, would you have repented of your refusal?”
“I do not know that ‘repent’ is an appropriate term, William!” exclaimed Georgiana.
“Perhaps it is not,” agreed Darcy. “Yet the question stands. I would know if I might have had a chance if I had been bolder.”
Miss Bennet regarded him as if trying to discern his reason for asking as he did. Darcy supposed the question was one she might not wish to answer, or she may not even know how to answer, both because of the distance from the event and the painful memories it might raise. It was a question Darcy had long asked himself, had wondered if a show of determination on his part might have changed matters between them. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, and Darcy had no notion, especially now that he was in her company again, that she had regretted him. The answer, however, was important to him.
“No, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet at length, “I cannot say I would have accepted you, for though I had learned the truth about Mr. Wickham, there was still much lying between us.”
“You accepted my explanation about Wickham at once?”
Again, she shook her head. “Not at once, though in time I understood the truth of your assertions. What happened thereafter we have already discussed, so I see no need to return to that subject. As Mr. Wickham proved his worthlessness there was no longer anything to doubt on that score. Your comments about Jane and Mr. Bingley were more difficult to reconcile.”
Darcy nodded but did not pursue it. Not only had they discussed it, but that matter was closed, as Miss Bennet was beyond Bingley’s reach. The subject of Bingley was also not palatable, for Darcy had no notion what his friend would think and how he would react should Darcy’s campaign to prove himself to Miss Bennet prove successful. Bingley had changed in the intervening years, for while he remained a jovial, happy sort, a measure of gravity had crept into his character. Bingley yet knew nothing of his sisters’ actions to keep Miss Bennet’s presence in London from his attention; Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would never speak of it, and Darcy had considered it less than useless to illuminate his friend’s understanding. Not only had Darcy not learned of it until several weeks after the event, but the intervening years had passed, and Darcy would not make his friend uncomfortable or angry by reopening old wounds.
“It seems, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet, “that weighty thoughts have overcome you.”
“I was just thinking of Bingley,” replied Darcy, though he was not at all certain he wished to discuss his friend with her now. The thought that she should know all prompted him to add: “I have no notion of what I shall say to him should I persuade you.”
“That is not something I had considered,” replied Miss Bennet. “As I recall, you are still friendly with him?”
Darcy sighed and allowed it to be so. “Bingley is still a close friend I see frequently. Several years after leaving Netherfield, Bingley purchased an estate in Derbyshire less than thirty miles from Pemberley. Bingley is still active in the season, but he is not so carefree, neither has he shown so much as a dash of interest in any young woman since your sister.”
Miss Bennet’s hand flew to her mouth. “Mr. Bingley has not married?”
“No, he has not.” Darcy shook his head, the old concern for his friend returning in full force. “After Bingley stopped speaking of her, not one word concerning your sister has ever passed his lips. He remains garrulous and active in company, but though he dances and pays all the compliment of his attention, his interest has never proceeded further than this.”
“I must own, Mr. Darcy, that I am no less than shocked. To think that you both remained unmarried all these years...”
“Can you not comprehend the reason, Miss Bennet?” asked Darcy.
To Darcy, this was a most important question. Miss Bennet was a woman of exceptional intelligence, not lacking in discernment. If she could not—or would not—see the reason for Darcy’s continued bachelor state at least, he would have much less confidence in his ultimate success in gaining her good opinion.
“I do understand the reason, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet at length, appearing bewildered. “Yet I will not scruple to suggest it is no less than astounding.”
“Why is it a shock?” pressed Darcy. “Have I not proven my devotion to you?”
“Amply,” was her succinct reply. “Yet I could not expect it. What woman could suppose that a man would remain faithful to her memory more than half a decade after she was last in his company? How could I have suspected both you and Mr. Bingley of such fidelity? It was my firm opinion that you would forget me when you comprehended your escape and move on to another woman who intrigued you. Mr. Bingley’s attachment to Jane was obvious, but six years is a long time to stay true to the memory of a woman.”
“A man might stay true to a woman for many more years than that if his affection is true.”
“Perhaps you are correct,” replied Miss Bennet. “If that were the only consideration, he might choose to do just that. There are other factors, such as your need for an heir to inherit your estate.”
Darcy sighed and allowed her observation to be correct. “Yes, there are other elements to consider. I can say nothing of Bingley, Miss Bennet, for I have not asked him, and I doubt he would share his thoughts with me if I did. From my perspective, I might have turned to another woman in time if all hope of reconciliation with you was gone. While I remained in a state of uncertainty, the notion of approaching a woman to satisfy those other considerations was repugnant.”
“You have not seen him these past years,” said Georgiana, her tone light as if trying to inject a hint of levity into their conversation. “I had never suspected my brother capable of moping, yet I saw it too many times to doubt.”
The way Miss Bennet regarded him, to her there was nothing humorous in Georgiana’s comment. The memory of those long and empty years was still fresh in Darcy’s mind, and while he appreciated Georgiana’s attempt, he could not see the absurdity of his behavior.
“I feel for Mr. Bingley,” said Miss Bennet at length. “There is nothing to be done on that score, so I shall not waste much thought on the situation. I have no doubt you will shock him should you present me to him as your wife, but perhaps in seeing me again and learning of Jane’s situation, he will allow the past to rest sufficient to turn his attention in other directions.”
“Perhaps he will,” agreed Darcy, determined not to think of his role in Bingley’s current plight. “Regardless of my concern for his state of mind, I shall not deny myself the bliss of future happiness for the sake of his feelings.”
Miss Bennet’s look was too knowing. “Did Mr. Bingley form part of your hesitation to approach me?”
“I hardly know myself,” replied Darcy, shrugging to emphasize his inability to decipher his feelings.
“Do you suppose that Mr. Mason will now become a problem?”
Miss Bennet looked at Georgiana in gratitude for taking the conversation in a different direction. For his part, Darcy appreciated it no less, for it was a subject about which he did not wish to speak to excess.
“If nothing else,” replied Miss Bennet, “our relations as neighbors will grow less amicable.”
After a moment’s consideration, she added: “The fence between our properties is sound and there are no problems between our tenants. Our drainage paths run opposite each other, so I suppose there is little need to deal with him much. I shall not avoid him, but I will not speak to him when I can avoid it.”
“If you will pardon me for saying it, I dislike him, though I have spoken to him but little.”
“In all honesty,” said Miss Bennet, brimming with mirth, “I have spoken to him but little myself! In all the times we stood together in conversation, he spoke the vast majority of the words between us. I could not have said much more than I did had I been inclined to do so!”
That broke the tension between them, and they all released their merriment.
“In that way,” added Miss Bennet, “he was much like my cousin, Mr. Collins, and perhaps even exceeded Lady Catherine’s need to control the conversation!”
“That is a heavy charge, indeed! Lady Catherine’s need to insert her opinion at length is legendary!”
“Tell me, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet, “what does Lady Catherine do now? Since Colonel Fitzwilliam controls the estate, I must assume that her need to advise others no longer has an outlet!”
The reminder of his aunt’s meddling ways was not palatable to Darcy, but he did not hesitate to answer her. “To a large extent, I believe Fitzwilliam has curbed her interfering tendencies. Fitzwilliam has issued a standing order to the servants, tenants, and the parson in residence at Hunsford, that should Lady Catherine meddle they are not to rebuff her but are free to ignore anything she says until they raise the subject with him!”
Miss Bennet could not hold her mirth. “It is well, then, that Lady Catherine knows nothing of his directive. I dare say she might expire on the spot if she became aware of such an affront to her boundless knowledge!”
What Darcy might have said he could not say, for the sound of the door chime interrupted them, and a moment later Mrs. Hardwick hurried into the room, her husband following, bearing her child. It appeared she had heard something of the confrontation.