Page 8 of It Taught Me to Hope

B reckonridge, thought Darcy, was a sound property, though the truth was he had leased it knowing nothing of its state. His reason was, of course, its location in the same neighborhood as Longbourn, its availability, and his decision to return to Hertfordshire to learn if he could persuade Miss Bennet to accept him. Compared to those benefits, the house might have been leaky, the fields unkempt and decaying, a trap for the unwary investor and he would not care.

It was not in Darcy’s nature to ignore a property, whether or not he owned it, and the estate master in him could do nothing other than own that there was nothing wrong with the property. Whereas Longbourn was north of Meryton, Breckonridge was to the southwest, perhaps two miles from the town. Thus, it was an equal distance from Longbourn as Netherfield Park, though Darcy knew that if one boasted familiarity of the paths on the two estates, the denizens of Netherfield could reach Longbourn on roads of much less distance than three miles.

Darcy had ridden out on the estate the day of his arrival, and he liked what he had seen. It was a small estate, its income only one thousand two hundred pounds in a good year, but Darcy had several properties of similar size and appointments. There was an option to purchase the property, and should Darcy succeed in his quest to provoke Miss Bennet’s approval and find what had eluded him all these years, he may decide to purchase. Longbourn was Miss Bennet’s property, but Darcy suspected that should she marry a man with a large estate, she would wish to gift the property to one of her sisters. So long as she accepted him, Darcy cared little what she did with Longbourn. Possessing Breckonridge would give them a place to stay when in the area, for Longbourn was a little small to host extended family.

This was all conjecture, of course, for Darcy had spent one evening in her company, and had surprised her with his presence. Mrs. Collins’s failure to inform her of his presence he attributed to their close friendship and her wish to tease her friend. At least Mrs. Collins did not appear to know of the event that took place in her parlor, under the very large and meddling nose of his aunt. Darcy was thankful for small blessings.

The estate was, of course, not the most important subject on Darcy’s mind. The property was nothing more than a distraction from his contemplation of Miss Bennet that morning, the day after the party at Lucas Lodge. That she had remained amiable after she recovered from her shock was a matter of some encouragement to Darcy, his history with her such that he would take any whiff of inspiration where he could. Darcy suspected he would need it.

“Deep thoughts rule you this morning, Brother.”

Darcy turned a smile on his sister, aware it carried a rueful quality. “Yes, I suppose that is so.”

Georgiana regarded him with compassion for his feelings, which she knew were strong. “I hope they are not all unwelcome.”

“Not all. Being in Miss Bennet’s presence again was sublime. The only thing that could have made it perfect was if she looked at me with the eyes of a lover.”

“Perhaps you should allow her a little time to become accustomed to your presence!” Georgiana’s soft laugh lightened Darcy’s mood if only a little. “You cannot expect her to fall in love with you in only a few moments after a reunion six years in the making.”

“No, I cannot expect it. I might , however, wish for it.”

The siblings laughed together. Darcy appreciated Georgiana, for regardless of the difference in their ages, they had always been close, though perhaps not confidantes. No, that came later, with the maturity age brought to his sister. For much of her youth, Georgiana had looked up to him almost as a father; in the past four years since her coming out, that had changed, and now they had settled into a brother-and-sister relationship he had always wished to have with her. Darcy had come to depend upon her insight, for Georgiana had grown in every respect, and had often helped him see certain facts of which he was blind.

“The truth is,” said Darcy, “that I suspect changing her opinion of me will not be the work of a moment, and I have no notion if it is even possible. When I first came to Meryton and met Miss Bennet, I was not in good humor and judged the people here harshly.”

“It was not long after Ramsgate, was it not?”

For several years after the event, Georgiana would become upset at the mere mention of her ill-fated adventure at the hands of the detestable Wickham. Now, however, she had moved past it, for it had no more ability to dismay her.

“It was,” agreed Darcy. “Yet I shall not scruple to suggest that the one was to blame for the other. For a time, I forgot the teachings of our father, much to my detriment. I had become so accustomed to deploring the behavior of those in society and look on my fellow man with a jaundiced eye, that it was second nature to see the people of Meryton through the same lens.”

“I can see little difference between them and the modest estate owners in Derbyshire.”

“You see clearly,” said Darcy, giving her a smile of approval. “Such people inhabit every corner of the kingdom. That does not make them any less estimable than those who revel in their superiority while engaged in the worst debaucheries in the ballrooms of London. In many ways, I have far more respect for them.”

“The people in London are not all bad, Brother,” chided Georgiana.

“No, they are not. I care little enough for society all the same.”

“Your improved behavior will do much to mend that mistake.”

“Perhaps it will. I will endeavor to do it, as much because it is the right way to behave as to impress Miss Bennet. Regardless, I could see little in her last night that suggested I have any chance of success.”

“Again, I will remind you to give her some time. Your sudden appearance was a shock to her. Let her see the true man I know—if you do, I doubt she can resist you.”

Darcy smiled at her, but it did not last, for his thoughts again consumed him. In the matter of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the confrontation in the parlor at Hunsford parsonage had shattered his confidence, though his self-assurance about everything else was unaffected. Darcy had long agonized about whether to return to see if he could change her mind about him, and after two or three years he had concluded that even if he summoned the courage to approach her again, it must be too late for any such action. Darcy might have remained convinced of the folly of seeing her again to this very day had he not encountered someone in London who changed his perspective.

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A S USUAL, THE SEASON was a trial, though Darcy had braved the city early this year. His sister, engaged only the previous November, had begged him to go early so she could attend events with her new fiancé, and Darcy, unable to deny her anything, had agreed. While Georgiana was engaged with the man she had accepted as her future companion, Darcy prowled the edges of the ballrooms of those high in society having given up on dancing years before.

There was still the occasional optimistic young miss who, confident of her abilities and her beauty, had attempted to provoke his good opinion. Darcy, unable to accept the notion of anyone other than Miss Bennet on his arm rebuffed them all, unwilling to give anyone the merest hint of deference above what propriety demanded. Rumors of his determination to avoid the marriage estate altogether sped through London the longer he remained unmarried and uninterested in any woman, along with sometimes fantastical explanations for why he had no interest. In time, talk died down and society at large accepted it, other than those few intrepid ladies, a one or two of whom had tried a more direct means to persuade him. As Darcy had never spoken on the subject to anyone other than Fitzwilliam—and even he did not know all—most ladies on the hunt for a husband ascribed his disinterest to his eccentricity and had turned their attention to other more promising prospects.

The night in question had been another such evening when attending Georgiana though not wishing to be in that ballroom, he had taken to his habit of stalking the perimeter of the dance floor, having already done his duty to his sister, the only lady aside from a few close cousins with whom he would dance at all. That was when he had seen her .

Never had Darcy seen much of a resemblance between Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but that night, when he caught sight of the lovely vision of the former, he marked the traces of Miss Elizabeth’s features in her sister’s face. Miss Elizabeth Bennet had long occupied Darcy’s mind and heart, his thoughts returning to her often even years after he had last enjoyed her company. What Darcy might have done he could not say, for the possibility of fleeing from her balanced against the prospect of approaching to speak to her. Then she saw him, rendering the point moot.

“Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, uncertain how he should address her after so many years. “What a surprise it is to see you. I hope you and your family are well.”

Though he had not intended it, the reference to her family brought a blaze of desire to know of one member of her family to Darcy’s breast. The woman before him curtseyed and spoke in the same placid tones Darcy remembered from his visit to the neighborhood.

“Mr. Darcy. It has been far too long, though I must correct you on one point. I am now Mrs. Edwards.”

Darcy cocked his head to the side. “Is your husband Jacob Edwards?”

“He is,” said Mrs. Edwards. “I apologize, but I was not aware you were acquainted, for Jacob has said nothing of you.”

“It is a slight acquaintance,” replied Darcy. “We were in university together, though we only overlapped for two years. It has been upwards of five years since I last saw Edwards.”

“That would explain it,” agreed Mrs. Edwards. “As my husband is not of the same level of society, it is unsurprising that we have not met these past four years since I married him.”

Not a matter of choice on Edwards’s part, as Darcy recalled. The reason for their slight acquaintance was not only because Darcy was two years younger than Edwards, but also because the man had always appeared to be a grasping, ambitious sort, the sort of man Darcy could not abide. Now that he considered it, that he had married Miss Jane Bennet, a woman who possessed little dowry, was a curiosity, for Darcy had been certain Edwards had searched for a more illustrious match, preferring a woman that came with a substantial fortune.

“Pardon me, Mrs. Edwards,” said Darcy, “but I hope your family are all well.”

Mrs. Edwards offered a pretty smile, her beauty undiminished by the march of time. “My father and my mother are no longer with us, Mr. Darcy. My sisters, or at least those with whom I remain in contact, are all well so far as I am aware.”

“I offer my condolences,” said Darcy, not knowing what else to say.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Do not concern yourself for offending me, for I know you have no knowledge of my family since you and Lizzy were together in Kent.”

Darcy nodded, considering how he might induce her to speak of the younger sister she had mentioned in passing. It occurred to Darcy that he had heard of Mr. Collins’s demise some years before, though he had not seen the man since the year following Miss Elizabeth’s stay at the parsonage. That left in question Longbourn’s disposition, for he had never heard whether Mr. Collins had fathered a child before his passing. It was fortunate, therefore, that Mrs. Edwards assuaged his curiosity without Darcy having to ask.

“Lizzy now lives at Longbourn, Mr. Darcy, for my father left it to her in his will after Mr. Collins passed away leaving only a daughter. Kitty and Mary are both married, though Elizabeth is not. With Lydia we have had no contact in many years, since not long after Elizabeth returned from Kent.”

“And a damned strange decision it was to be certain.”

Edwards joined them at that moment, fixing his wife with a scowl. “As the eldest, Mr. Bennet should have left the estate to you rather than your sister.”

The mystery of Edwards’s decision to marry Jane Bennet now had an answer, for he had expected Longbourn to be Jane’s dowry. No doubt Edwards had exhausted all other avenues to an advantageous marriage, unsurprising since few thought well of the man. For that matter, Darcy wondered at her agreeing to marry him, for his confrontation with Miss Elizabeth had suggested that the sisters had some higher wishes when considering their marriage prospects, and this despite the circumstances of their family. Whether she had thought herself in love with Edwards, had become jaded because of the business with Bingley, or had accepted the reality of her situation Darcy could not say. This news of Miss Elizabeth—now Miss Bennet—prompted thoughts in Darcy’s mind that he did not think he had any business entertaining. For the moment, however, it was best to focus on his companions, such that he pushed the memories of Miss Bennet to the side.

“That Papa would leave Longbourn to Elizabeth was perfect sense,” contradicted Mrs. Edwards, though her manner, as was her custom, showed no hint of perturbation or any other feeling. “Lizzy has always loved Longbourn more than anyone in the family, even my father, and he knew she needed a situation to support herself.”

Edwards grunted but declined to pursue the subject Darcy suspected they had debated ad nauseam. Instead, he turned his attention to Darcy.

“I was not aware you were acquainted with my wife, Darcy.”

“I was not aware the former Miss Bennet was your wife. Several years ago, a friend leased an estate in Hertfordshire near her home; I stayed there for a time.”

Edward’s lips curled in a moue of distaste. “Given he leased the estate, I must assume it was that tradesman friend who was always riding your coattails.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth. Bingley is an excellent friend, one I count as such to this day.”

Uncertain of the wisdom of mentioning Bingley though he was, Darcy did not hesitate, for Mrs. Edwards must know to whom her husband referred. As usual, she gave no hint of her feelings. Darcy, however, thought he caught a... an echo of something in the depths of her eyes. Given Miss Bennet’s testimony of her sister’s regard for Bingley, Darcy knew at once that her assertions had been nothing other than the truth. Whatever had prompted her to accept Edwards, theirs was not a love match, and Mrs. Edwards, even now several years later and married to another man, still harbored affection for Darcy’s friend. Though he had not thought of that situation in some time, his recollection always returning to Miss Bennet, Darcy could feel nothing but shame for his role in denying this exceptional woman her happiness with his friend. That she was now trapped in a marriage without love with a man Darcy could not respect was his doing and no other’s. His charge to Miss Elizabeth at Hunsford that Jane Bennet would have accepted Bingley for no other reason than her mother’s insistence, was now proven false with no room to doubt. Mrs. Edwards possessed the fortitude to stand up for herself, for all her reticent manners.

“Are you in town for the season?” asked Edwards at that moment, drawing Darcy from his morose thoughts. “Perhaps we shall invite you to dinner, or we could meet at the club.”

“Perhaps,” said Darcy, not committing to anything. As Edwards was not high in Darcy’s esteem, he would not associate with him, no matter how many overtures the man offered.

Mrs. Edwards, he noted, understood his reluctance, the wry slant to her lips an echo of another young lady’s mannerism. She nodded to Darcy while her husband continued to blather on, making plans Darcy had no intention of allowing to come to fruition. Not only was Edwards a bore who he did not wish to endure as part of his circle, but he imagined frequent meetings with Mrs. Edwards would constitute a trial on his patience given her resemblance to her sister. Darcy would not put himself into such circumstances. Not long thereafter, Darcy contrived an excuse to bid them farewell, and thereafter he took care to keep his distance. The meeting was a chance one, and not likely to be repeated given Darcy’s disinclination for company and the disparity of their positions in society.

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T HAT HE WAS NOW IN Hertfordshire still had the power to shock Darcy, so long after he had declared the impossibility of any attempt at rapprochement with Miss Bennet. Though he had conceived the idea from the moment he caught sight of Mrs. Edwards in that ballroom, Darcy had no notion at the time that he would ever act on his sudden longing. Had Georgiana’s fiancé not received a summons from his interests in the West Indies, Darcy suspected he would have continued to escort Georgiana for the rest of the season, then retired to Pemberley where his aunt, Lady Susan Fitzwilliam would have planned her wedding scheduled for that summer. Now that Talbot was to be absent until early autumn, postponing his sister’s wedding until at least Christmas, the siblings were in need of occupation. Even then, Georgiana had persuaded him to return, or he might never have acted upon his impulse.

“You have spoken of Miss Elizabeth Bennet many times—I can see the love you still possess for her. Would it not be better to return to Hertfordshire to see if you can recommend yourself to her?”

Darcy had sighed, convinced there was nothing to be done. “It has been too long, Georgiana. If I go to Hertfordshire, I invite further heartache for little chance of success.”

Georgiana, seeing more clearly than Darcy, shook her head. “No, Brother, I cannot agree. If you do not return, there is no chance at all of success, and you will always regret it. If, however, you risk disappointment, the result may surprise you. Even if you fail, at least you will know. It is that, as much as anything else, that has kept you stagnant these past years. If you understood her sentiments and brought that time of your life to a close, you may even find the will to search for another woman to share your life in contentment, even if it is not what you had hoped to gain.”

It was a simple, yet profound truth that Georgiana had related to him, such that Darcy wondered he had not seen it for himself. “By all rights, her rejection of my proposal should have ended any thought of persuading her.”

“Yet much of her opinion was based on misunderstanding and Mr. Wickham’s poison. After her rejection, you acted to explain your behavior to her, and you have existed in this purgatory ever since, not knowing if her sentiments changed. It may have done much to alter her perception; it is unlikely it provoked her to fall in love with you, but it may have changed her enough to make it possible for a renewal of your suit to succeed.”

“Yes, I suppose you must be correct.”

After that, it had been a simple matter to farewell Talbot to the West Indies—Georgiana had, of course, regretted his going much more than Darcy had—and engage his man of business to search out properties near Meryton. The prospect of a stay in Hertfordshire had also given Georgiana something with which to occupy her time other than pining after her absent love, so Darcy supposed it benefited her too. It had been late February when Darcy had asked his man of business to investigate the matter, and a mere twenty days later when he had signed the lease, uncaring as to the amount he paid, the disposition of the house, or any other such extraneous concerns. All his attention he focused on his upcoming reunion with Miss Bennet, his mind filled with a myriad of emotions, among which dread, elation, and anticipation had vied for supremacy. A few days after signing the lease, the Darcys arrived at Breckonridge, and the next day he returned to Miss Bennet’s presence at the party at Lucas Lodge.

“What will you do now?”

Georgiana’s question brought Darcy from his reminiscences and back to the present. He had been silent for some time, he supposed, given the amusement and exaggerated patience with which his sister regarded him.

“What else can I do? Put myself in Miss Bennet’s company as often as I can contrive, try to understand her to know if she welcomes, tolerates, or deplores my presence, and act when I know her sentiments.”

Darcy paused and fixed his sister with a wry grin seasoned with chagrin. “Then again, my understanding of Miss Bennet has never been profound, such that I am near certain to botch it altogether.”

“Do not concern yourself, dear Brother,” said Georgiana, patting his hand. “For I shall examine her reaction in your stead and tell you what to do. Long have you denied me the pleasure of a sister. Though I shall not live with her and enjoy her company once you are married, I am determined that you will be happy in life, whether it is with Miss Bennet or someone else. As I like her very well and suspect she can be persuaded, I will work with the bird in hand before I beat the bushes.”

“You have taken her measure to that extent already?” asked Darcy, the contagious quality of her optimism pushing the corners of his lips into a smile.

“I made no such claim. As our acquaintance deepens, I shall attempt to understand her better. That I already esteem her, however, is much easier to determine, for I am convinced that she is easy to appreciate.”

“That she is,” agreed Darcy. “Had I recognized it at once, I may not be in this predicament.”

“Do not continue to berate yourself, Brother. Let us look to the future with confidence and hope.”

Darcy nodded, not trusting his voice to respond.

“Then I suppose we should be about our business. It is a little late in the day to visit, and I suspect Mrs. Collins wished to speak with Miss Bennet, given some looks I saw pass between them. Shall we go tomorrow?”

“That is agreeable to me.”

“Very well,” said Georgiana. “Now, if you do not mind, I shall play for a time.”

“Of course, my dear,” agreed Darcy. “I love listening to you play, for it is soothing to my sometimes-stormy heart.”

“Then I shall serenade you, Brother.”

His sister did just that, leaving Darcy listening to her play on the small pianoforte the estate boasted. It was not comparable to the grand instrument that graced the music room in Pemberley, but his sister’s skillful hands coaxed as much beauty from it as the old instrument had ever produced. It proved an excellent accompaniment to Darcy’s thoughts, which returned to Miss Bennet now that the demands of their conversation were not distracting him. How the coming days would proceed Darcy could not say, but his conversation with Georgiana taught him to have more hope for the future than he had harbored in several years. Georgiana was correct; he might not emerge from the experience with his most cherished wish, but perhaps the experience would prove cathartic and allow him to live again. Stranger things had happened.