Page 17 of It Taught Me to Hope
F or the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt like she had a suitor, a novel experience for one who had received and rejected three proposals from available men! Mr. Collins, of course, had been nothing like a suitor, for her acquaintance with him had been a week old when he proposed, and his simpering nothings, comprising his reverence for Lady Catherine and his certainty she could not reject him for his excellent situation pushed aside any hint of lovemaking. That last was for the best, for Elizabeth could not imagine the upset in her stomach resulting from his attempt to make love to her! Then there was Mr. Mason and his intention to bore her into accepting him, his connections to a baron, and his interest in gaining control over Longbourn that had far outweighed any affection he felt for her .
The proposal in the middle of these two extremes came, of course, from the man now paying her court, and if he had not tried to solicit her admiration before, he was making up for that deficiency now. Try as she might, Elizabeth could recall no hint of the gentleman’s interest before other than his tendency to watch her, and she did not think anyone with a modicum of sense would blame her for misunderstanding that . The man she recalled from her memories and the man she saw most days now bore no resemblance to each other, for all that they wore the same face.
Mr. Darcy, she knew, would never be a demonstrative man—that was simply not his way. Grandiose declarations of imaginary love, such as those offered by Mr. Collins, would never make their way into his speech, and for that, Elizabeth could feel nothing but gratitude. Even further, he never strayed beyond quiet declarations of regard, a kiss on her hand, or a bright smile when she made some fine point in their conversations. What he could claim, however, was to make his feelings understood on a more subtle level, to inform her of his regard in listening to her when she spoke with the fullness of his attention, the way his eyes softened when she came into his sight and the way he spoke to her, his voice tempered to a gentle quality with which he addressed no one else, not even his sister.
The lesson this imparted to Elizabeth was to not make a judgment on anyone without stopping to take their full measure—she had learned this early on with Mr. Wickham to be certain, but somehow her interactions with Mr. Darcy brought the lesson home in a manner far more profound. Elizabeth doubted she would have known Mr. Darcy before, even if she had spent all her time observing him, for by his own admission, he had come to Hertfordshire in a poor mood and had taken no interest in knowing the locals. Yet recognizing him for what he was should not have been beyond her ability.
So, matters between them progressed as the days of spring lengthened and summer approached, and soon these days of courtship became the happiest of her life. Mr. and Miss Darcy were a constant presence, Mary proved a tower of strength on those occasions when Elizabeth became uncertain, and her other friends, Charlotte and Penelope most of all, offered their support, providing a distraction when Elizabeth most needed it. Had everything in her life proceeded with such felicity, Elizabeth would have been well pleased.
“I beg your pardon, Elizabeth, but Mr. Mason’s scowl is as foul as I have ever seen a man fix on a woman.”
Elizabeth, who had noted the man’s scrutiny earlier, nodded to Georgiana, who had spoken, hoping that Mr. Darcy would return before the spurned “lover” approached her. “It is much the same every time I am near him. Perhaps I should have reconsidered—I might have if I had known he would subject me to the fiery furnace of his contempt whenever he is nearby.”
“Do not say such things!” exclaimed Georgiana, though she spoke through a giggle. “Marriage to a man such as Mr. Mason cannot be at all agreeable.”
“That is what I have always thought,” agreed Elizabeth. “It is best to unite with a man who holds you in high regard—you shall discover this before much longer.”
“As shall you, I think.” Georgiana gave Elizabeth a knowing look tinged with excitement. “Or I hope you will, not only for my brother’s sake but for yours as well.”
It was not the first time Georgiana had offered that sentiment, and Elizabeth knew it would not be the last, for her friend made her wishes known in everything she did and said. Allowing such comments to go unanswered was Elizabeth’s best recourse, for Georgiana was not incapable of teasing when the mood struck her.
“It seems you were correct,” said Georgiana when Elizabeth did not reply. “Should there be any issues between your estates, it would be best if you were my brother’s wife so that he may deal with Mr. Mason.”
“While I cannot discount the notion of Mr. Mason causing trouble if he should take it into his head, there should be no opportunity for the nonce.”
“Of what are you speaking?” asked Charlotte, coming near.
“Jilted suitors,” said Georgiana.
“Ah,” said Charlotte, not looking in Mr. Mason’s direction. “Then he has continued to impale our Elizabeth with the force of his disdain.”
“I prefer Elizabeth’s ‘fiery furnace of contempt,’” laughed Georgiana.
“Elizabeth always had a way with words,” replied Charlotte. “Do you suppose that Mr. Mason will ask you for a dance tonight, Lizzy? He could not lose if he did. Having your attention for a dance might suit his sense of vanity, while if you refused, he would prevent you from dancing yourself.”
“Mr. Darcy has my first set,” replied Elizabeth. “If that is all I am allowed tonight, I shall accept it with uncommon philosophy.”
A gasp spoke of Georgiana’s affront. “You do not suppose he would, do you?”
“I hardly know. Though he saw fit to demand my hand in marriage, I cannot claim to be well acquainted with him. Whether he would stoop to such petty revenge is beyond my knowledge of him.”
“Then I shall ask Samuel to spread the word,” said Charlotte. “Perhaps we can engage you to every man in the room before Mr. Mason can work his wicked deeds.”
“Oh, Charlotte, we have no notion that is what he means to do!” Elizabeth laughed at her friends’ silliness. “This is the first assembly since Mr. Darcy returned, and I mean to enjoy it more than the first I attended in his company.”
“I mean to ensure you do,” said Mr. Darcy as he approached them.
Sir William had taken Mr. Darcy’s attention upon entering and kept it for the moments in which Georgiana and Elizabeth had been speaking. The assembly that evening was somehow different, though Elizabeth had attended many such events in the past. Whether it was because she now had an acknowledged suitor she could not say, but if asked, she would confess how pleasant it was to have an admirer, even if she was not yet certain she would accept him.
“Of course, you must,” said Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy sweetly. “Every man courting a woman must put their best foot forward.”
“In this instance,” was the gentleman’s wry reply, “I cannot think it will help in the slightest. You have already seen me at my worst, so there is no hiding my faults from your judgmental eyes.”
“No, I suppose there is not,” agreed Elizabeth. “But if you show me your excellence in other areas, you might induce me to forget everything that has gone on before.”
“If I thought that had any chance of success, I would do it at once. Unfortunately, I suspect your memory is exceptional, and that any such notion is doomed to failure.”
“Do you suppose they even recall our presence?” asked Charlotte to Georgiana.
The younger woman stifled a laugh. “I doubt it. Perhaps we should leave them, for they will banter until the music starts. Though my fiancé is far from here, I would not be opposed to dancing this night.”
“I shall take you to my brother and his friends, for they appear to be in want of partners.”
With a wink, Charlotte took Georgiana’s hand and led her away, Elizabeth’s narrowed gaze following them as they departed. Mr. Darcy did not appear at all put out with their teasing—unless Elizabeth missed her guess, he had enjoyed it.
“Your sister is not what I expected, Mr. Darcy.”
The gentleman regarded her for a long moment. “What did you expect?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “It is difficult to say. Miss Bingley spoke of her in such terms as to suppose she was a giant among women, an awe-inspiring figure of taste, judgment, and accomplishment.”
Mr. Darcy laughed. “Yes, I recall her prodigious list concerning accomplishments all ladies must attain, though I will remind you that she is not Miss Bingley any longer.”
“As I knew her when she was yet Miss Bingley,” replied Elizabeth, “that is how I still think of her.”
With a chuckle, Mr. Darcy replied: “If you believed Miss Bingley implicitly, it would surprise me to learn of it. When she was a girl, Georgiana was shy, one who seldom put herself forward and did not speak a word to anyone who was not a member of the family. The business with Wickham exacerbated that character trait.”
Elizabeth looked across the room where Georgiana was now gathered with Charlotte and certain other ladies of the neighborhood. “She appears well recovered from her experience with that snake.”
“Yes, she is, though her recovery consumed some months. Coming out into society and becoming engaged has also helped her gain confidence. When she takes her place in society as a married woman, I suspect she will do well.”
“Your aunt and uncle will assist.”
“They will,” confirmed Mr. Darcy. “As you recall, my uncle is the Earl of Matlock, so their position is one to be envied. Lady Susan wields a significant measure of power in those circles. While they are becoming quite elderly now, they are still hale and active.”
“And Lady Catherine?” asked Elizabeth, curious about the lady with whom one meeting was more than enough. “Does she lord her position over all and sundry in her exalted sphere?”
“No, she does not,” replied Mr. Darcy, shaking with laughter. “Lady Catherine did not leave Rosings often when Anne was alive, and she never leaves it now, though her residence is in the dower house.”
This was a surprise to Elizabeth. “That is beyond my comprehension, Mr. Darcy. The notion that Lady Catherine would leave the main house of Rosings Park is no less than shocking.”
“ If you consider her removal willing, I can understand your curiosity.”
The way the gentleman regarded her, smugness mixed with amusement told Elizabeth there was more to the story than Colonel Fitzwilliam bundling her off to another house. When Mr. Darcy did not elaborate at once, Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed and she tapped her foot, waiting for further explanation. That this diverted Mr. Darcy the gentleman did not bother to hide, but he gave in at length and explained.
“Fitzwilliam was more concerned with Lady Catherine’s feelings than to banish her without consideration, Miss Bennet. He did not exile her to the dower house the moment he took control of Rosings. Lady Catherine left of her own accord.”
“Then your aunt is less of a force of nature than I thought.”
“Ah, but you do not know the details.”
The gentleman was drawing this out as long as he could, enjoying the telling as much as Elizabeth enjoyed hearing it. Rather than show an overt sign of impatience this time, Elizabeth waited for him to speak, certain she would get the story quicker if she did not provoke him.
“You see,” said Mr. Darcy at length, “my uncle is well acquainted with his sister’s ways. When Anne died, my uncle and Fitzwilliam went to Rosings together to discuss the matter with Lady Catherine. While Anne had told them her wishes long before, Lady Catherine had nothing more than suspicion; it was wisdom on Anne’s part, though anyone with any modicum of sense knew what she would do. Anne had no contact with anyone on the de Bourgh side of the family.”
“Was that by Lady Catherine’s design?” asked Elizabeth.
“Perhaps,” replied Darcy, his shrug of indifference containing more than a hint of apathy. “As Lady Catherine intended Anne to be my bride, she took little thought for Anne’s relationship with anyone and did not wish her husband’s family to have any claim on the estate.
“Regardless, when they visited my aunt and informed her of the disposition of the estate—Lady Catherine knew by the time they arrived—they made clear that Fitzwilliam would be the master with all the power the position entailed. Fitzwilliam assured his aunt that she could remain in the house for the rest of her life if she wished, but that she would no longer wield authority over the estate.”
“That cannot have been palatable to your aunt,” observed Elizabeth.
“You know Lady Catherine well, Miss Bennet. She did not object, for there was nothing she could do, but she could not tolerate it long before it became desirable to have her own establishment so she would not need to witness her fall daily. It was not six months before she declared her intention to take up residence at the dower house. Now she lives there and manages her affairs, and this has restored her sense of importance.”
Elizabeth laughed. “A masterful stroke, Mr. Darcy. By doing this, they avoided argument and allowed Lady Catherine to decide her future, preventing further strife removing her would have caused.”
“They did,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “I never intended to marry Anne, but had I done so, I might have used a similar device, though I would never have lived at Rosings. Fitzwilliam and I discussed the subject and agreed that at least part of my aunt’s thinking in insisting that I marry Anne was so she could retain control of Rosings for the rest of her life.”
The music started at that moment and when Mr. Darcy gestured to the dance floor, Elizabeth put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her. Out of the corner of one eye, Elizabeth noted Mr. Mason regarding them, anger alive on his features, though he did not try to accost them. She also noted that he did not dance, preferring to stand at the side of the floor and glare at them. It was not unlike the behavior of a certain gentleman of her acquaintance at his first assembly in the neighborhood. Elizabeth also noted Georgiana’s presence in the line, her partner Samuel Lucas, who appeared bemused at partnering such a pretty and wealthy young woman for a set. Elizabeth suspected Charlotte’s hand in this, though she could see no sign of her friend.
The first few steps of the dance passed in silence as Elizabeth admired the grace of Mr. Darcy’s movements, appreciating as she had not either at the previous assembly or the ball at Netherfield how accomplished Mr. Darcy was at the activity. The notion nearly made her burst into laughter as she considered his stated disinclination for a pursuit in which he possessed much skill. Mr. Darcy must have noticed her diversion, for when they came together at the next pass, he spoke to her.
“It appears you have considered something that has amused you, Miss Bennet. I hope it is not the picture your partner presents.”
Elizabeth waited as they moved down the line, and when they came together again, she said: “It was, but not for the reason you suppose. It struck me as curious that you are so accomplished in an occupation you do not enjoy.”
“Is it so strange?” asked Mr. Darcy. “I doubt many men would claim working in the fields all day are among their favorite activities, yet they are accomplished at coaxing crops to grow.”
Elizabeth turned away from him, approaching again a few moments later. “That is different, I should think. Such men must do so to support themselves and their families.” When they separated and came together a few moments later, Elizabeth added: “This is leisure, sir. For all you claim to disdain dancing, the skill you show bespeaks much practice.”
The shrug with which Mr. Darcy responded spoke with eloquence about his feelings. “Perhaps it does. My instructor was excellent, and I have many years in London to practice, though I was never an eager dancer. In recent years, I eschewed the amusement altogether.”
“That only makes your skill that much more surprising.”
Again they separated, several moments passing before they came together. Mr. Darcy did not appear inclined to speak, and Elizabeth contented herself with watching him. The truth she had never allowed herself to consider before was that looking at Mr. Darcy was no onerous task—even when she had deplored his manners, she had never questioned the force of his physical appeal. Any woman who could see past the end of her nose must allow this much. Age had done nothing to dampen his appearance, for his hair was still wavy and full, a dark rich brown with no hint of gray, his face was not lined to excess, and his distinguished air had only intensified in the intervening years.
The question that kept returning to her mind was what Mr. Darcy saw in her . Elizabeth had never been under any illusions about the power of her allure. Jane was the beauty in the family, not Elizabeth, though she had always thought she was pretty enough. Mr. Darcy, however, regarded her with such reverence as to suggest that she was the most beautiful woman alive. How she could reconcile this Elizabeth could not quite understand, and at the moment she was not certain she wished to.
“There is one item we have not discussed for which I will own to some curiosity,” said Elizabeth as Mr. Darcy led her from the dance floor after the sets concluded.
“Oh? What is that?”
“This business of Lady Catherine not carrying her point and forcing a marriage between you and Miss de Bourgh.” Elizabeth offered an impish smile and said: “The lady was, as I recall, most determined to see it done.”
Mr. Darcy grimaced as Elizabeth thought he would, but he did not answer at once, instead looking about the room. “I have no objection to speaking of it, but there may not be enough time before the next set.”
“It should not be a problem, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth shared a wry smile. “I am not so popular a partner as I once was—should we stay together, I suspect that is sufficient to keep the gentleman away and prevent me from dancing the next set.”
“Then these men are all blind,” averred Mr. Darcy.
Flattered, Elizabeth said: “It is only that I made my disinclination for the attentions of any of them clear. Having the security of a home for the rest of my life, my determination to marry only under conditions of my choosing became immovable.”
“I shall stand guard over you, Miss Bennet,” replied Mr. Darcy, turning his attention back to her. “Should any have the audacity to approach you, I shall frighten them away by the force of my implacable glare.”
A delighted laugh escaped Elizabeth’s lips. “Very well, sir, I shall hold you to that. Now, will you not explain?”
“In truth, there is little enough to say. Lady Catherine was , as you noted, determined that I should marry Anne and unite the two estates together. While she said nothing to me or anyone else in the family of her reasons other than her tired excuse of an agreement between herself and my mother—an agreement my mother never mentioned to another living soul, I might add—I long suspected she thought the greater wealth and prestige for the Darcy family would make it possible for me to gain a title. Then she would not only be the daughter and sister of an earl, but the mother of a noble bride.”
“Was she correct?”
Elizabeth could not help her curiosity, for to the best of her knowledge, the king did not give titles to those for no other reason than great wealth. If wealth was among his criteria, there were among the merchant class those who were building fantastic fortunes who would be in line to become ennobled.
“I cannot say, nor am I interested in a title.” Mr. Darcy shook his head in annoyance with his aunt. “What care I for a title? To me it is little more than a burden, a reason I must further associate with those for whom I have little respect. With my family connections to my uncle and other older ties to the nobility, it is possible, I suppose, but never an avenue I wish to pursue.”
“Yes, I can see your point.”
Mr. Darcy nodded and returned to his tale. “The year after you stayed at Kent with Mrs. Collins, I returned to Rosings at Easter in Fitzwilliam’s company as was our custom. Little did I know that Lady Catherine was determined to carry her point that year.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy. That cannot have been comfortable.”
“It was not,” said he, an echo of offense in his voice. “From almost the first moment we crossed the threshold, Lady Catherine used every stratagem she possessed to force me to propose to Anne. In the end, it became an argument, which culminated in Lady Catherine accusing me of spitting on my mother’s memory and threatening to sue me if I did not fall in with her designs.
“I laughed at her, Miss Bennet—not one of my finer moments. By that time, I was so incensed that I had no care for preserving family ties. The argument turned vicious, and we both made abominable accusations we could not recall. I left soon thereafter and have not returned to Rosings or spoken to my aunt since.”
“That is unfortunate, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth with a sigh. “But I suppose there was nothing you could do with Lady Catherine so intractable.”
“I always knew it would lead to an argument,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “Until the event, I could not have known how explosive it would be. Lady Catherine blames me for her daughter’s death, though I could see that Anne was already declining the last spring I was in her company. Anne did not possess the strength to be the wife of a man of my prominence and would not have withstood the rigors of childbirth. I, of course, require an heir, though I neglected that duty these past years.”
The gentleman shared a smile with her, though forced and not the genuine regard he had shown her since his return.
“There are two other aspects of this I should share with you,” continued he. “The first is that Lady Catherine’s entreaties were not the last of the business. A week after I returned to London, Mr. Collins dared to journey to London on Lady Catherine’s behalf.”
A gasp escaped Elizabeth’s lips. “Truly? That is a shocking impertinence to be certain, and even more shocking that Lady Catherine thought it beneficial to dispatch him. Charlotte never mentioned it to me.”
“As for the second,” said Mr. Darcy, “I suspect Mrs. Collins never knew about it. For the first, I believe Collins acted on his own and without Lady Catherine’s sanction. He approached me full of reproof and warnings that I had a duty to yield to my aunt’s designs. You can well imagine how I reacted—I berated him and warned him against ever approaching me and then threw him from my house.”
“What a silly man he was! I should not speak of the deceased in such a way, but I have never seen a man with such an absurd mix of pomposity, daring, servility, and cowardice, to say nothing of the sense of self-importance brought on by unexpected prosperity at your aunt’s hand.”
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “I cannot say you are incorrect, Miss Bennet. It has long been my aunt’s custom to surround herself with those who will not gainsay her, but Mr. Collins is by far the most ridiculous.”
Elizabeth nodded. “You said there were two aspects?”
For a long moment, Mr. Darcy considered her, and then he sighed. “To own the truth, I have never shared this with another and have often told myself to stop being absurd. At times, however, I wondered if I should have agreed to Lady Catherine’s wishes and married Anne, knowing she was not long for the world. If I had, it would have kept the peace in the family and perhaps given Anne a bit of rest and contentment before her passing.”
“Unless I miss my guess,” replied Elizabeth, “I suspect your cousin would not have agreed with such a plan.”
“You have the right of it. Yet I still wonder sometimes. A marriage to Anne would not tie me down, and it would not have prevented a marriage to another woman.”
“You could not have known she would die.”
“It was inevitable by the final year I was in her company.”
“Did your cousin ever suggest she wished it?”
“No, but Anne was not in the habit of saying much at the best of times. In the last few years of her life, I suspect she only wished to be free of Lady Catherine. Had I married her, I could have offered her at least that much.”
“You cannot take the evils of all the world on your shoulders, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps you might have done so in Miss de Bourgh’s case, but we all see clearly in hindsight. Do not flagellate yourself, for it will do no good to consider what might have been.”
Elizabeth regarded Mr. Darcy and cocked her head to the side, considering the unexpected advantage of the gentleman’s account. “Given all this, if I accept you, I will not need to endure Lady Catherine.”
Mr. Darcy returned a wry smile. “Perhaps you must endure her once only, for I cannot imagine Lady Catherine remaining idle when I marry a ‘most unsuitable woman.’”
“Oh? I suppose owning an estate is not enough for her ladyship?”
“If the bride was anyone other than Anne, the daughter of a duke would not have been enough to satisfy her.”
“But your cousin is passed on.”
“If you think that will make any difference to Lady Catherine, you do not know her ways so well as you profess.”