Page 24 of It Taught Me to Hope

W ithin days, the Darcys received a letter from their cousin with word of the exact date he would join them in Hertfordshire, and Georgiana communicated it to Elizabeth and her family. The evening thus set, Elizabeth anticipated being in the colonel’s company again, for she had found him an excellent man. Her sisters too would esteem him she was certain, for he was a difficult man to dislike.

On Sunday, the Bennet sisters and their families readied themselves for services in the morning, and they departed en masse for the church building just outside Longbourn’s gates. With Kitty’s family present, not to mention Jane, Mary, and her child, fitting into the Bennet pew was a tight squeeze. That did not concern Elizabeth much, for she was far too pleased to have her sisters with her, even if she was confined between Kitty on one side and Jane on the other.

As they sat waiting for the service to begin, Elizabeth noted the Darcys enter and sit on the other side of the aisle, a little further back from the front. The gentleman offered her a nod and a soft smile, while Georgiana fixed her with a grin, to which Elizabeth gave them a welcoming nod, promising to speak to them when the service ended.

“That is curious,” said Kitty in Elizabeth’s ear, proving she had grown from the heedless girl who would have blurted out whatever was on her mind without a care for anyone listening. “The church in Meryton is more convenient, yet the Darcys have come to Longbourn.”

“Perhaps it would be more convenient, Kitty,” said Jane, a hint of laughter in her tone. “If they went there , it would lack one essential component.”

“Oh, aye,” said Kitty, a comment reminiscent of Lydia. “A gentleman must seize the opportunity to meet the object of his affections, even in a setting such as a church service, whenever it arises.”

“Quiet, both of you,” remonstrated Elizabeth, though she did not suppose she fooled her sisters into believing her anger when she sported a wide grin. “ I am the mistress of Longbourn now, and I must insist upon your respect for my position.”

Kitty and Jane exchanged a look and burst into quiet laughter, joined by Mary on Kitty’s other side. Kitty’s youngest, held in her arms, whimpered in his sleep, and Kitty rocked him a little, settling him at once.

“I might almost have thought Mama was speaking to me,” said Kitty.

“Actually,” said Elizabeth, “I patterned my response on my knowledge of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I can imagine her saying exactly that.”

“Your comments about the lady are droll, Lizzy,” said Mary. “Perhaps Mr. Darcy will invite her to Hertfordshire so we can all bask in her radiance.”

“Take care about what you wish for, Mary,” retorted Elizabeth. “While I cannot imagine Mr. Darcy losing his wits enough to invite his aunt, one does not escape an introduction to Lady Catherine de Bourgh unscathed.”

After the day’s observance ended, Elizabeth congregated with her friends and neighbors, exchanging a few words of farewell. Of note was the presence of one with whom Elizabeth was not at all acquainted, an older woman, short and plump, appearing severe yet haughty at the same time. By her side was Mr. Mason, who Elizabeth had not met in some days to her great relief; she noted he was in the attitude of speaking with her, his proximity evidence of some intimacy. His attention, and that of the lady, was on Elizabeth, for she regarded Elizabeth as if assessing her. The woman’s manners put her in mind of Lady Catherine, for she exuded the same sort of distant superiority. The lady gestured, Mr. Mason nodding as he led her forward.

“Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Mason, his tone such that she could almost believe her name was not an epithet, “my aunt has indicated a desire to become acquainted with you.”

Elizabeth nodded, turning to Mr. Mason’s aunt.

“Aunt, please allow me to present my nearest neighbor, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Bennet, this is my aunt—my great aunt—Lady Marjorie Thornton, the sister to his lordship John Thornton, the Baron of Somerset.”

“Your ladyship,” said Elizabeth, curtseying as was proper.

The lady deigned only to nod in response. “Miss Bennet, it seems there are several members of your family in attendance. Will you do me the honor of introducing them?”

Even the lady’s voice, commanding yet much higher than Lady Catherine’s contralto, reminded her of Mr. Darcy’s aunt. The gentleman approached with Georgiana by his side, watching the scene with interest. Elizabeth obliged Lady Marjorie, introducing first Jane, then Mary and Kitty, and their families. By then, Mr. Mason had taken notice of Mr. Darcy.

“Also, Aunt,” said he when Elizabeth finished with the introductions, “there is another I would like you to know. This is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Darcy is a close relation to the Earl of Matlock.”

Lady Marjorie’s eyebrow rose. “What is your connection?”

“I am the earl’s nephew,” said Mr. Darcy. “My mother was his brother.”

For a moment, the lady appeared to consider this intelligence. “I am not acquainted with the earl, but I have heard something of him. I recall my brother’s son mentioning his friendship with the earl’s son.”

“Anthony Fitzwilliam,” said Mr. Darcy with a nod. “Yes, I have heard of the connection.”

With a nod, Lady Marjorie turned her attention back to Elizabeth. “I hope, Miss Bennet, that I may visit you when the occasion permits.”

“That would be welcome,” said Elizabeth, though she suspected this woman was as insolent and haughty as Mr. Darcy’s aunt. “Do you mean to stay long in the neighborhood?”

After a brief pause, Lady Marjorie said: “At present, I have not decided how long I will remain. But I believe I shall stay for at least a few weeks.”

“Then I am certain we shall cross each other’s path.”

It appeared Lady Marjorie was not pleased with Elizabeth’s statement, but she said nothing further, contenting herself with farewelling them and leaving in her nephew’s company. When Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s eye, they both chuckled, for it was clear they had the same thought.

“Before church, I told you I was interested to make Lady Catherine’s acquaintance at least once,” said Mary, though her laughing gaze fell on Mr. Darcy. “Now that I have made Lady Marjorie’s acquaintance, I do not suppose there is any need to be in Lady Catherine’s company, for I suspect they are much alike.”

Mr. Darcy and his sister chuckled at her suggestion. “Trust me, Mrs. Hardwick, the reality of Lady Catherine is so far beyond Lady Marjorie as to make any comparison between them impossible.”

“Oh, that is the truth, indeed!” exclaimed Georgiana. “Whatever Lady Marjorie betrayed in haughtiness was a pale imitation of what Lady Catherine can summon, and she is far more fearsome and meddling!”

“Then I remain intrigued,” said Mary. “Perhaps someday I will be admitted to the merest glimpse of her ladyship. That much, I suspect, would satisfy me forever.”

“Truly, you have no idea,” said Georgiana, much to the amusement of all.

“Shall you return to Longbourn with us?” asked Elizabeth of her friends. “We should be pleased to have you stay for luncheon.”

“I need not even glance at my brother to know he is in favor of accepting,” said Georgiana with nary a hint of a grin.

“You are correct, Georgiana,” said Mr. Darcy. “Should Miss Bennet agree, I should be happy to walk you back to the estate. Is there some path we may take that will lose us for a time on the estate’s grounds?”

“How shocking!” exclaimed Mary. “Were my sister not an adult and you a gentleman, I might suspect you of nefarious purposes!”

“Not at all. I have nothing more reprehensible in mind than a little time alone in your sister’s company.”

“My sister jests,” said Elizabeth, “but I know just such a path we may traverse in fifteen minutes.”

“Then let us depart.”

Elizabeth promised to meet her sisters back at Longbourn after her walk with Mr. Darcy. Georgiana, eager as she was to promote the connection between Elizabeth and her brother, agreed at once to walk back to the house with Elizabeth’s family, and soon they departed, Georgiana carrying one of Kitty’s children in her arms while chatting happily. Together, Elizabeth watched them depart with her gentleman caller and turned an arched eyebrow on him.

“It appears, Miss Bennet, that they have become fast friends.”

“That they have. Do you suppose Georgiana has conceived a desire for children in response to her experiences with Kitty’s?”

“Conceived, no, for Georgiana is impatient for children with her future husband.”

“She will be an excellent mother.”

Elizabeth gestured to Mr. Darcy, and they began walking the path that led around Longbourn, returning to the house from the north after a short loop through the woods. Many had been the time Elizabeth had walked it, though not after church services—her father had always preferred to return to Longbourn after church, where they would partake of the noon meal, the family’s largest repast on Sundays.

“Yes, I dare say she will be,” said Mr. Darcy. “There is one, however, who I suspect will be even better. Or at least I suspect she is suited to me .”

“Is that so?” asked Elizabeth, feigning interest. “Shall you introduce me to her?”

“If you look in the mirror, you will find her staring back at you.”

Elizabeth smiled, for such teasing comments were coming easier to his lips of late. “At this point, Mr. Darcy, I cannot say if I will ever become a mother, to say nothing of whether I will excel in the role.”

“To the first, I will say that I am doing my best to convince you. As to your second point, you will perform with distinction should I succeed.”

Elizabeth regarded the gentleman. “Are you certain you are not emphasizing my virtues in your desire to have me as a wife?”

“Regardless of my affections for you, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, appearing entirely serious, “I challenge any man to find anything wanting in your abilities. Even had I any doubts, what I have seen of you with your nephews and nieces since my return has wiped any such away.”

They continued walking, Elizabeth choosing instead to consider the gentleman rather than give a response to his praise. Such was the intensity of her thoughts that Elizabeth gave no heed to the surrounding foliage coming into its summer growth, sights that had entranced her since she had been a girl.

If there had been any ambiguity left in Mr. Darcy’s character, Elizabeth could imagine herself questioning his sincerity, for anyone could make grandiose claims about another. That a man would put his best foot forward to impress a woman he fancied was not unexpected. Yet there was no question of Mr. Darcy’s authenticity, for Elizabeth knew he had kept the hope of her alive in his heart during the years of their separation. It was something she could not even begin to understand, for Elizabeth had not been enamored with him as he had been with her, and she had thought little of him during all that time. Memory had intruded on occasion, for the memories of such a significant event in her past as rejecting a proposal was not a matter to forget.

As she strolled along by his side, their pace slow, enjoying each other’s company rather than attempting to return to Longbourn as soon as possible, Elizabeth considered the three proposals of consequence she had received. There was little reason to consider them at length, for she knew the weaknesses of each, and there were no strengths of which to speak. Not even for a moment had she been tempted to accept any of them, for her feelings for the three men had not been congenial and all three had failed to consider her wishes.

The question that came to her at that moment consisted of whether accepting one of the three men she had rejected was now possible. As little as she might have fathomed such a thing before, Mr. Darcy was growing in her esteem, sufficient to render her response to his proposal when he made it uncertain. The more time Elizabeth spent in his company, the more he shared himself with her without the disguises of the past, and the more she liked him.

“What are you considering, Miss Bennet?”

Mr. Darcy’s voice intruded into her thoughts, but the interruption was not unwelcome. As Elizabeth glanced at him and smiled, she could only wonder at the strangeness of it all, that a man she had considered among the worst had grown in her esteem. Even his letter had not changed her opinion to this extent, for while it had exonerated him in the matter of Mr. Wickham, it had done nothing to warm her regard for him.

“Everything and nothing, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth.

“More everything than nothing, I suspect,” was the gentleman’s reply. “There is much on which you have to think.”

“In this, I suspect mine is the more arduous task, for by your own admission, you would propose this moment if you thought I would accept.”

“I made my decision when I returned to Hertfordshire. Since that evening in Hunsford, I have known that I wish to have you for a wife. The difficulty for me was all in the intervening years as I attempted to move past your rejection, and then tried to gather the courage to approach you when that failed. At present, I feel almost free, for I know my path. Whether I will ever walk it is now out of my hands.”

Elizabeth felt the weight of his declaration pressing down upon her. “That is a heavy responsibility you lay on my shoulders.”

Mr. Darcy stopped and turned to regard her. “I would not have you pressed down by it, Miss Bennet. In so speaking, I have no intention of compelling you to decide in my favor, nor do I wish you to accept me if it goes against your character.”

“Yes, I can see that, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth quietly.

As the gentleman began walking again, Elizabeth fell into step beside him.

“You know my wishes, Miss Bennet. The question before you is one of unalloyed inclination—if you accept me, I will cherish you all my days and do my utmost to ensure you never regret it. If you do not, I will accept it and hope that we have forged enough of a bond that we may remain friends.

“I am happier than I have been in years, and it is all due to you. Perhaps I lay a burden upon your shoulders, but in so doing I have found the peace that has eluded me since I left Hertfordshire with Bingley. I now feel I can face the future, regardless of what it holds.”

Mr. Darcy’s honest confession moved Elizabeth, and she was not afraid to confess it. Since Mr. Darcy had reappeared and made his intentions known, Elizabeth had felt she carried Mr. Darcy’s hopes in her palm, that to reject him again would destroy him forever. In baring his feelings to her, Elizabeth now felt such concerns melt away, leaving nothing in its wake but an eagerness to learn if she would join her life with his absent concerns about his state of mind. It made matters far easier for her, and, unless she judged amiss, far more likely she would learn the contents of her heart and accept him. Mr. Darcy could have offered nothing to make her acceptance of him more likely.

“I am pleased to hear it, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “for your happiness has become important to me.”

“There, you see?” said the gentleman, favoring her with a brilliant smile. “I have made progress. It is my dearest hope we learn what it is to love each other and then use that knowledge to plan our future lives. If that leads to joining for an eternity, it would be the fondest wish of my heart. If it does not, I still have no doubt of our future happiness.”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “I believe you are correct. Shall we not return to the house? I find myself quite famished.”

“Let us go at once.” The gentleman winked as he offered his arm. “There will be witticisms aplenty—if we return earlier, we will take some wind from their sails.”

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I T WAS A LARGE AND merry party that gathered at Longbourn after church that day, and Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy joined them all before anyone expected. Jane Edwards watched them, staying out of the fray as much as possible, as much to observe as for any reasons of mourning, a fiction to which she applied herself for society’s benefit rather than her own. It appeared to Jane that Elizabeth was far happier than she had seen in many a year, and for that blessing, Jane could not but be grateful. Elizabeth might still struggle with the question of whether she would accept Mr. Darcy, but if Jane was to guess, her sister was already half in love with him without knowing it.

Or perhaps Jane was mistaken, for Elizabeth was... changed after her walk with Mr. Darcy. There was, perhaps, a little more admiration in her eyes when she regarded the gentleman, though not enough to allow Jane to suspect they had come to an agreement. It was as if Elizabeth had accepted the situation and cast her worries aside. For one as cerebral as Elizabeth, to gain that perspective was as important as the state of her heart. Elizabeth was prone to overthinking matters, a facet of her character due to her intelligence, which was profound. After observing them for a time, Jane was more certain than ever that her sister had found her happiness. And she was not the only one, as several glances Jane shared with Mary attested to her understanding of the subtle change in their sister.

Kitty, of course, remained oblivious, unsurprising given her sunny character not given to deep thought. Jane watched her younger sister as she sat with Georgiana Darcy, with whom she had developed an instant friendship, their animated conversation not lacking in subjects about which to speak. Mary and Kitty’s husbands also spoke to Mr. Darcy with ease, proving their impressions of the gentleman were erroneous—the men were a parson and a man of less consequence than Jane’s father had been, after all.

It was not a surprise that the conversation after the Darcys’ departure centered on their departed friends. As usual, Kitty was the force that pushed the discussion forward.

“What do you know of Mr. Mason’s aunt, Lizzy? I felt about as small as a mouse under her judgmental stare.”

“You know as much as I do,” replied Elizabeth. “I knew of his titled relations, for he did not hesitate to inform me of them himself. That one would visit is not something he mentioned to me.”

“This business of his proposal to you is no less than hilarious. After Mr. Collins’s offer, I might have thought you had your fill of objectionable suitors. Tell me, was it worse than what you received from Mr. Collins?”

“In many ways it was,” said Elizabeth, the distance from the event allowing her to feel the amusement of the situation. “Yet, I cannot say that one was worse than the other overall, for they each had their moments.”

Elizabeth considered Kitty for a moment, then she said: “My history with gentlemen is far direr than even you know, Kitty, for Mr. Mason’s proposal is the third proposal I refused, if you do not count the one I received when I was a girl.”

Astonished though she was that Elizabeth would open to Kitty to that extent, Kitty’s shock was even more pronounced. “You received another proposal?”

“Well, to be exact, Mr. Mason’s proposal could be called ‘another’ proposal. The one of which you know nothing was several years ago.”

“That is curious, for you never dropped a word of it.”

Kitty glanced at Jane and Mary and noted their lack of surprise. “Then I am the only one unaware of it?”

“Yes, Kitty,” replied Mary, “though I only learned of it after Mr. Darcy came.”

“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Mr. Westbrook. “ He offered your third proposal!”

“Second, actually,” replied Elizabeth.

“If you do not tell me the story,” said Kitty, “I shall burst from curiosity, Lizzy. Do not keep me in suspense!”

Elizabeth laughed and draped her arm around Kitty’s shoulders. “Yes, Kitty, I shall speak before I provoke you to hate me forever. I hope you will forgive me, for it was not a matter of which I wished to speak.”

Then Elizabeth regaled them all with the tale of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, not stinting in giving every detail of the encounter. Kitty listened, astonishment followed by gasps at all the appropriate places. When Elizabeth finished her tale, Kitty regarded her with wonder.

“That is curious, indeed, Lizzy! Had our mother any notion of your third proposal, Longbourn might not have survived her anger! Even she would not have faulted you for refusing your first.”

They all laughed, even the men who had both become acquainted with the Bennets after the matron’s passing. “That is a near likeness of our mother!” said Mary.

“If you will pardon my observation,” said Mr. Westbrook, “the more confusing part of this affair is that you are still considering Mr. Darcy as a husband.”

“That is true!” exclaimed Kitty. “Given your character and how you informed Mr. Darcy of your sentiments, it is shocking that he returned.”

“Yet Mr. Wickham prejudiced my opinion of Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth allowed a wan smile. “In the intervening years, I learned to think better of Mr. Darcy, and not only because Mr. Wickham proved his worthlessness.

“The more curious matter is how I might have met Mr. Darcy again that summer,” said Elizabeth.

Jane was no less shocked that Elizabeth would raise the subject, and wondered at Elizabeth’s openness now, especially with Kitty, a woman unknown for guarding others’ secrets. Kitty’s expression demanded an explanation, and Elizabeth did not hesitate.

“I was to travel to the north with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner; we would have gone had Lydia not disappeared. Before we were to depart, my aunt sent me a letter to let me know we could not go as far as the lakes, so our destination was to be Derbyshire.”

“Which is the county containing Pemberley, as I recall,” said Jane.

“Yes. Of further note is the destination Aunt wished to visit was a town called Lambton, which, according to Mr. Darcy, is no more than five miles from Pemberley.”

“That is curious,” said Kitty. “Do you suppose you would have met him?”

“I cannot say,” said Elizabeth. “Given the recent acrimony between myself and Mr. Darcy, I cannot imagine I would have visited Mr. Darcy’s estate but even being in Lambton I might have come to his attention. As he has approached me now, it seems logical to suppose that he would not have hesitated to show his regard then.”

“We will never know,” said Jane. “To me, all has worked out for the best, though nothing is settled yet. Your separation from Mr. Darcy was hard for the gentleman, but it taught him to trust his feelings.”

“Yes,” said Elizabeth, and unless Jane misread her sister, she was considering whatever they had discussed on their walk. “We are both different people than we were then. That is to the good, for it has allowed us to begin again.”

“Well, I hope you will find your happiness, Lizzy,” said Kitty. “Of us all, I have always thought you and Jane deserve it the most.”

“We all deserve happiness, Kitty,” corrected Mary. “Let us hope Lizzy can find hers. Then we shall only need to concern ourselves with Jane.”

“For the moment,” replied Jane, “I am content.”

“Nonsense, Jane,” said Elizabeth, winking at her elder sister. “I have it all planned. Should I marry Mr. Darcy, I shall introduce you to all Mr. Darcy’s acquaintances in London, where you may choose whomever you wish. There must be a man among them who is worthy of you.”

The notion of another man in her future was not at all onerous to Jane’s feelings. The image of a young man, pleasing and open, flashed through Jane’s mind, an echo of the regard she had once held for him. It was not a displeasing image, though Jane could say nothing of the man’s current state. When she was younger, she might have indulged in further thoughts of the gentleman, though she had not seen him in more than six years. Jane was not a dreamy young woman any longer, for life had taught her several harsh lessons. Perhaps there would be a man in her future as Elizabeth suggested, but Jane determined to take what happiness in life she could despite whatever the future held.