Page 21 of It Taught Me to Hope
A s such news often does, word of Jane’s return soon made its way through the community. Had she been an unknown, Elizabeth might have expected a less than sincere welcome, even considering her status as a widow, for the ladies might resent her pretty face and the attention she would receive. Jane would not confront that trial, for she was a well-known entity in Meryton, and still had many friends there, including those whom Elizabeth called her friends. Among them were the first visitors the day after Jane’s return—although she was a widow in mourning, brief visits to pay respects were acceptable.
“I am happy to see you, Jane,” said Charlotte as she greeted Jane with an affectionate embrace the moment she arrived. “The news about your husband is tragic, but I suspect you are pleased to return to Longbourn.”
“I am,” replied Jane, her usual quietude in evidence.
Charlotte, of course, knew nothing of the situation Jane had endured with her husband. There was, Elizabeth supposed, something of a resemblance between their situations, for both were widowed after short, unhappy marriages, though Charlotte had not endured a dismissive, abusive, or unfaithful husband as Jane had. Jane had no child as opposed to Charlotte’s daughter, but both had a retreat available to them, though Jane’s was the more comfortable; Elizabeth did not suppose that Charlotte was in any danger of being turned out of Lucas Lodge, regardless of her worries about becoming a burden on her brother, whereas Elizabeth would keep Jane at Longbourn forever if that was how it all fell out.
While Charlotte had never been so close to Jane as she was to Elizabeth, she had always esteemed the eldest Bennet, and her caring welcome showed it to all. Jane remained composed as Elizabeth had known she would be, speaking with Charlotte in quiet tones, telling her something of Mr. Edwards’s death, though not the parts she had confided to Elizabeth and Mary.
In time, others of the neighborhood came to pay their respects, though none stayed so long as Charlotte. Penelope, who was also a good friend, stayed a little longer than the others, but she too went away after a short time in deference to Jane’s bereaved status. If only they knew the truth of the matter!
Few made open comments about the situation while there, but Elizabeth thought she caught a hint of the prevailing opinion of their neighbors. Most welcomed Jane’s return and pitied her; the prevailing sentiment was that the estate’s heir had behaved poorly in forcing her from her home so soon after her husband’s passing. Further, most appeared to believe that the best path to Jane’s recovery was for her to return to her ancestral home and the loving care of her family. This Elizabeth could not dispute, for she agreed with their opinions without reservation.
“Well,” said Mrs. Long, a woman known to them for many years, gossipy, yet affectionate, “it is well that you returned to us, Jane.” The older woman reached out and patted her hand. “It makes me wonder if those people in Oxford know how to behave the way they should. Now that you have returned, you may recover here. Lizzy, I am certain, will do her utmost to ensure your comfort and your return to happiness.”
“Of that, you may be certain,” said Elizabeth. “It is a tragedy, but the silver lining is Jane’s return.”
“If only your mother were still here to welcome you.”
Mrs. Long sighed and soon thereafter took her leave, the last of those who visited that morning. Elizabeth shared a look with Jane and Mary—who had attended them—and burst into quiet chuckles.
“I declare that Mrs. Long misses Mama more than any of her daughters,” said Elizabeth. “If she does not make that comment at least once every week in my hearing I find myself concerned for her wellbeing.”
“They were excellent friends,” said Jane, ever diplomatic, while Mary looked on with mirth.
“Aye, that they were.” Elizabeth sat back and heaved a sigh. “I do not know about you, Jane, but I am pleased the initial visits are complete. It puts me in mind of our parents’ passing, and the memory does not please me.”
“No, it does not,” agreed Jane.
Jane shifted on her chair, pulling the black fabric of her dress to a more comfortable position before she regarded Elizabeth with a hint of demand. “The visits are not complete, I think, for I heard much of Mr. Darcy’s return and have yet to see him. Do you suppose he will be along today? I wish to see him again, for I am eager to know how he behaves with my dear sister.”
“Then be prepared to witness something you never thought possible, Jane,” said Mary, fixing Elizabeth with an amused sidelong glance. “Mr. Darcy, by my account, has been most attentive to our sister.”
“I asked Mr. Darcy to come later,” said Elizabeth, ignoring her sisters’ teasing. “There may be conversation concerning subjects of which no one else in the neighborhood is aware, so it is best we conduct the visit with no witnesses.”
To this, her sisters could do nothing but nod, though Mary stood and regarded them both with affection.
“Then I shall excuse myself, for there are matters at the parsonage I must see to.” Mary grinned and added: “I do not suppose my presence is necessary for such weighty conversation as the Darcys will bring.”
The sisters bid farewell to Mary and sat down to await their visitors, speaking as they waited. Nothing of much substance passed between them, as they had canvassed the important subjects the previous evening. The time was so precious because of the return of Jane’s society to Elizabeth, such that the subject of their conversations mattered little. They did not wait long, for soon the door chime rang, and Mrs. Hill led the Darcys into the room.
It was a matter of much interest to Elizabeth to see how they reacted to each other, for while Mr. Darcy knew Jane would be there and Jane was aware of the looming visit, still, she had not seen them in each other’s company for many years. Elizabeth knew about Mr. Darcy’s interference between Jane and Mr. Bingley, and more importantly, Jane suspected it, though Elizabeth knew Jane was more liable to explain away and excuse than condemn. Still, with all that had happened, she suspected they might each reveal something to her if she watched.
Elizabeth was in part correct and in part mistaken, for Jane was as inscrutable as ever, even to one as acquainted with her as Elizabeth was. All she could take from her sister was her ease with the gentleman and her intention to absolve him of any wrongdoing. Mr. Darcy was the more demonstrative, for he showed at once his deference to her, mixed with more than a hint of contrition for his actions. It would, Elizabeth knew, be some time before they would speak of it—if they ever did—but she already knew how it would end when they came to the point.
“Mrs. Edwards,” said Mr. Darcy after dispensing with the initial greetings and introductions between Georgiana and Jane, “Georgiana and I offer our condolences on your husband’s passing.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” said Jane, accepting his comment with little noticeable reaction. “It was sudden and unexpected, but I think I am putting it in perspective.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “To own the truth, Edwards did not appear to be in poor health when I saw you in London. It is a tragedy, even more, because it has forced you to leave your home so soon after your loss.”
“Now that I have the benefit of hindsight, I recall certain incidents that pointed to his poor health, though he told me nothing of it. As for my departure from my home—” Jane turned a fond look on Elizabeth “—I cannot think of any place more suited for my recovery than with my dear sisters.”
“As everyone aware of the situation has stated ad nauseam,” quipped Elizabeth.
Then Jane turned the conversation, which Elizabeth had known she would. “To own the truth, I had not thought my meeting with you in London would lead to your return to Hertfordshire.”
“Had I not convinced him,” interjected Georgiana, “it may not have.”
Mr. Darcy appeared a little embarrassed at the observation, but Jane shared a smile with Georgiana. “For my sister’s sake, I thank you, Miss Darcy. As I have been in her company for only a day I cannot say with any certainty, but I do not think she regrets his coming.”
“I hope not! I am more than twenty now, yet my brother has not seen fit to gift me with a sister.” Georgiana turned a sly grin on Elizabeth. “My future husband has sisters so I shall gain some there, but I hope very much that I shall have another.”
“At this juncture,” interrupted Elizabeth, reserving a stern look for them both, “I do not think we are so near to that end as to discuss it openly.”
“On the contrary, Lizzy,” replied Jane, “if you opposed Mr. Darcy’s suit, I doubt you would have received him for this long.”
“I tolerated Mr. Mason’s attentions for several months,” protested Elizabeth.
“Perhaps you did,” agreed Jane. “I suspect you did so only because you needed to retain good relations with your neighbor.”
Becoming annoyed with the teasing, Elizabeth glared at her sister, who offered a fond smile and turned back to the Darcys.
“To own the truth, Miss Darcy, I am quite surprised with this news of Lizzy’s. It was my understanding that you were likely to become Mrs. Bingley.”
Georgiana regarded Jane with manifest uncertainty. “How you might have come by that notion I cannot say, Mrs. Edwards. Mr. Bingley is nothing more than my brother’s friend who, while he has my esteem, I never saw as a potential husband.”
“There appears to be a story in this,” said Mr. Darcy, looking between Jane and Elizabeth. “I can understand why you would not have spoken of it, Miss Bennet, as the subject has not come up and would not have been palatable. Might I infer that Miss Bingley said something on the subject even exceeding her comments about Georgiana at Netherfield?”
As Georgiana’s eyes widened in comprehension, Elizabeth looked to Jane, uncertain if her sister would wish to speak on such subjects as this. Jane, it appeared, had no compunction at all about it, for she assumed the burden of response.
“You may, Mr. Darcy. While Lizzy mentioned something of what Miss Bingley said at Netherfield—if you recall, I was confined to my room at the time—the intelligence to which I refer did not reach me until after you all departed for London.”
“A letter?” asked Mr. Darcy. “Miss Bingley argued against visiting any of the families to take our leave, instead promising to write to you as the only one in the neighborhood she considered to be of any consequence.”
Mr. Darcy shrugged and appeared embarrassed. “Though I counseled her against such a display, I could not move her from her purpose. As I was only a visitor, it was not my place to insist, and I did not think it necessary that I act in her stead—Netherfield was not my home, after all.”
To Elizabeth, such a judgment was in error, as Mr. Darcy had moved and lived in the neighborhood for six weeks complete. Now was not the time to voice her disagreement, for it did not signify. That Mr. Darcy had not behaved well was a settled fact, one the gentleman did not dispute; there was little reason to bring it up again.
“At the time,” said Jane, “I was certain there was a misunderstanding, or Mrs. Bingley had seen something in her brother that I had not.”
“As I recall,” said Elizabeth, “you insisted it was a misunderstanding when I told you Miss Bingley was a false friend.”
Jane nodded, not ruffled in the slightest. “The salient point is that Miss Bingley claimed an attachment between Mr. Bingley and you, Miss Darcy, and presented it as a reason for their sudden decampment from Hertfordshire.”
A blush settled over Jane’s face, and she added: “I went to London that winter and visited the Bingley townhouse, but Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst claimed to have no time to speak with me and promised to return the visit. I will own that I hoped to see Mr. Bingley.”
“I have no direct information,” said Mr. Darcy, appearing uncomfortable, “but I suspect they wished to send you on your way before their brother returned. At least, that was the impression Miss Bingley gave me when she mentioned the incident some weeks later.”
“Yes, I can imagine it,” agreed Jane. “Miss Bingley waited a full three weeks before visiting, and when she appeared, she did not hide her wish to sever all further contact between us. She took the opportunity to reiterate her brother’s interest in Miss Darcy and said that he was much engaged with you.”
It was clear to the sisters that the machinations of the former Miss Bingley annoyed both Darcys. Mr. Darcy appeared to wish to speak, and Elizabeth was certain anything he said would not be kind toward the despicable woman, yet she was certain he would not, for he wished for his sister to respond. Miss Darcy, for her part, was far angrier, for it was she who was at the center of Miss Bingley’s attempts to mislead Jane.
“Then let me take this opportunity to refute Miss Bingley’s claims,” said Miss Darcy, her tone cold and unyielding. “There was never anything between Mr. Bingley and me. Not only did he never pay me any more attention than that due to the younger sister of his friend, but even if he had, I never saw Mr. Bingley that way. An excellent man though he may be, I never wished to be the subject of his interest.”
“That I can believe.” Jane sighed and directed a wan smile at Elizabeth. “My dear sister attempted to tell me that Miss Bingley was never my friend, but I did not listen to her until it became obvious that she was correct.”
“Miss Bingley,” said Georgiana, delivering her words with a definite tone of denunciation, “cares for nothing but her selfish concerns and her lust to climb to the heights of society. The only reason she focused on my brother and me was because of her brother’s friendship with William. The only thing that mattered to her was how we would forward her ambition.”
“If you had told me that six years ago, I would not have believed you. I hope I have become wiser in the interim.” Jane paused. “Do you still associate with Miss Bingley?”
“I do not. She is now known as Mrs. Powell, and her husband is not of my level of society. The summer after our stay in Hertfordshire, I... explained certain facts she had not considered in her pursuit of me, which ended any contact between us, and with Bingley for a time.”
Jane looked on with interest, which provoked Mr. Darcy to say something of his argument with Miss Bingley at Pemberley. His account was not so detailed as that he had related to Elizabeth, but he said enough to allow Jane to understand what had happened. When he completed his tale, Jane shook her head and sighed.
“Then I hope she is happy. Those who are so caught up in such covetous thoughts might not find contentment, and I cannot but think she is more content now that her ambitions are at an end.”
“Yes, I agree,” said Mr. Darcy.
The gentleman squared his shoulders, an action clear to them all as a gathering of his courage. “I wish, Mrs. Edwards, to extend my apologies to you for my behavior.”
Jane appeared bemused. “Oh? What trespasses of yours have I to resent, Mr. Darcy?”
While Jane had spoken so to lighten the atmosphere and set the gentleman at ease, it did nothing to alter Mr. Darcy’s gravity. “I advised Bingley against you and, furthermore, I kept your presence in town from his knowledge.”
That bit of news surprised Jane, for Elizabeth had never mentioned it—Jane’s spirits had been low, and Elizabeth had not wished to drag them down even further with such talk. When Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth and asked her about it, she gave her reasons for keeping the matter from her sister.
“That is more than I deserve, Miss Bennet, but I suppose you were correct for your sister’s sake.”
Mr. Darcy paused as if considering what he might say. “The event is six years in the past, so the memory of my motivations is no longer accurate. At the time, I thought it was because I did not believe you returned Bingley’s feelings, though I will note that I came to that conclusion on the strength of an evening’s observation. Rather high-handed of me, would you not say?”
“I have never been adept at showing my feelings, Mr. Darcy,” replied Jane. “Even when I felt capable of displaying them, I took pains to hide them because of... certain factors in my family.”
Mr. Darcy understood her reference to Mrs. Bennet, but he was gentleman enough to refrain from commenting on it.
“While I told your sister my objections which also contained my concerns for the behavior of certain members of your family, looking back I can only conjecture that I also wished to avoid the temptation for myself. After all, if you married Bingley, my friendship with him and your close relationship with Miss Bennet would bring me into contact with her. As I had determined to separate myself from her, Bingley’s connection to you was not palatable.”
“That has done you a lot of good, Mr. Darcy,” was Jane’s dry jest.
Elizabeth looked on, for Mr. Darcy had never said so much to her. It was a measure of how much she had misjudged him, at least in this, for he had harbored deeper feelings for her than she had ever guessed or acknowledged.
“As for my failure to tell Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy, again returning to the previous subject, “Miss Bingley told me of the matter some weeks after returning your visit. As it was in the past, I did not think it wise to reopen old wounds by mentioning it to him, so I held to my silence.”
“You know what the irony is?” asked Jane. “Though I thought myself in love with Mr. Bingley I have no notion now if I was. My judgment has not proved infallible, for I also judged Mr. Edwards to be the best of men and thought he loved me as much as I loved him. Yet I was mistaken on all fronts.”
“Perhaps you were, Mrs. Edwards. However, I should not have presumed to involve myself, especially as I proved inept in the giving of such advice. Thus, I beg your pardon for my misstep.”
For several long moments, Jane remained silent, considering all she had heard. Mr. Darcy watched her as if he expected her to denounce him, and if he expected it, he still did not know Jane at all. Jane’s silence did not mislead Elizabeth, for she knew Jane could no more condemn Mr. Darcy than she could fly to the moon. In the end, as Elizabeth had known she would, Jane proved her conjecture correct.
“While I thank you for telling me this, Mr. Darcy,” said she at length, “it is useless to agonize over what has passed. There is much to look forward to and much for which we all must be thankful. For my part, I do not hold it against you.”
“I considered your sister to be the most generous of her sex these past weeks.” Mr. Darcy grinned at Elizabeth. “Now it appears I must revise my opinion, for if there is any woman more generous than you, I have never met her.”
This broke the tension, and they all laughed, Elizabeth exclaiming: “If you think me half so generous as Jane, I must question your acumen! Anyone who has the benefit of an acquaintance with my angelic sister must know that she has no defect!”
“That is not possible for anyone,” said Jane.
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy burst into further laughter. “As I recall, there is another who used those same words, one who is in this very room!”
“That I did,” agreed Mr. Darcy, wiping moisture from his eyes. “I hope the end of this conversation will be better than that one.”
“I hope so too, Mr. Darcy,” replied Jane. “For my sister’s happiness is important to me. It comes to my mind that you are the man who may make her happy.”
“That is what I hope to convince her,” agreed Mr. Darcy.
“What will you do now, Mrs. Edwards?” asked Miss Darcy.
“At present, I cannot say,” said Jane. “My sister has been so good as to welcome me to Longbourn, so I suppose I will stay here until my mourning is complete.”
“As you know, Jane,” interjected Elizabeth, “I would not repine it if you stayed at Longbourn forever.”
“That may not be wise, Lizzy.” Jane fixed her with an impish smile. “After all, your future husband might take exception to supporting a widowed sister forever.”
“ If her future husband is at all sensible,” replied Mr. Darcy, “he will keep his opinion to himself. If he does not, he must be out of his wits.”
The heat of embarrassment set Elizabeth’s cheeks glowing, but all her companions appeared to enjoy it. Elizabeth shook her head and glared at Mr. Darcy, overcoming her momentary mortification.
“You appear to be becoming overconfident, Mr. Darcy. Do you suppose it is at all wise to provoke me this way?”
“If I thought I was provoking you, your displeasure might concern me.”
Mr. Darcy smiled at his sister and turned back to Elizabeth. “As my sister observed, I will not win your regard with restraint and caution. I must instead resort to boldness.”
“I could have told you that, Mr. Darcy. My father would have said that I must look up to a man as my equal before I would be happy. Any man who is not bold in suing for my hand I cannot respect.”
“Then I shall attend to my deficiency at once, Miss Bennet. If boldness is what you require, perhaps I shall throw you over my horse and make for Gretna.”
The visit continued for some time after, and now that they had dispensed with fraught subjects, it was a merrier party, though still respectful of Jane’s situation. In time, the Darcy’s excused themselves and departed, and Mr. Darcy made a point of offering a particular and affectionate farewell to Elizabeth. As she watched them depart, Elizabeth could not help but understand how welcome their presence had become to her, how pleased she now was with their friendship. Jane, having seen them together for the first time, had much to say, though she did not say everything she considered.
“It appears, Lizzy,” said she when they were again alone, “that there is something changed about Mr. Darcy. As you once advised me concerning Mr. Bingley, I shall do the same about Mr. Darcy. The man who presents himself now is such a man that I think it is difficult to refuse. If you should do so, I would wonder about the state of your wits.”
“I am not unaffected by the gentleman,” said Elizabeth, feeling bashful at her sister’s comments.
“Then my faith in your sense is restored, my dear sister.”
Jane stepped close and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek.
“I suspect you will be a fortunate woman, Lizzy. As you have waited longer than I ever thought possible, it cannot come too soon.”
With those words, Jane smiled and excused herself to return to her room. Elizabeth took herself to the sitting-room where she remained the rest of the afternoon, trying to immerse herself in a book or the pianoforte. Yet she could not, for her thoughts were far too consuming to allow her to focus on anything else.