Chapter 25 #2
“Indeed, she was a loving mother. As for your father, I heard him laugh and saw him party, hunt, ride, and fence many times…before he married. Afterwards, he forced himself to fit into the confines of propriety and decorum of which your mother was so fond—and to become the perfect father for his children.”
“I also recollect how devoted my father was to my mother.”
“He was…the moment he made vows to her, he dedicated his life to her and his children. But…his heart remained elsewhere…”
“Aunt, what on earth do you mean? Surely you cannot imply that —”
“But I do. You see, my dear, when we speak of arranged marriages, everything is settled except for the heart. It remains alone, outside the arrangements; and we often see that, before or after the wedding, the heart becomes engaged to someone else. In your father’s case, it was the daughter of a shop owner from Lambton.
He left the neighbourhood before you were born.
His daughter, Jenney Morton, was the loveliest girl that ever existed.
She was your father’s age, and they grew up together. ”
“I never heard that name —Morton. Did my father make a promise to another woman?”
“He did not. Back then, Pemberley was not as successful as it is today. Your grandfather —God rest his soul —was more kind and generous than he was an efficient landlord. And your father knew that he had to bond his family to a titled one with excellent connections to ensure his heirs a prosperous life. Marriage to Jenney was never discussed…not even considered…everybody knew that, including the two of them. Only their hearts refused to listen…”
“I have never heard such a story. So…what happened? Do you suggest that my father kept a mistress all those years?”
“Of course not. He was entirely devoted to your mother the moment he married her. He simply…he never broke his vows to his wife. He ignored his heart and followed his duty. He was that kind of man —and I am afraid you are too much like him.”
“And do you know what happened to Jenney Morton? Where is she now?”
“Of course I do; I even met her a few times. She moved with her family to Oxfordshire to be with relatives. She had a very comfortable situation and several suitors whom she refused. Sadly, she died six years after your father’s marriage.
Nobody knew the reason for her illness. Her family had means enough to provide good doctors and the best care but…
it seems it was her lungs…there was nothing to be done. ”
“Goodness…such a sad story of which I was oblivious all these years. My father must have suffered so much.”
“George’s pain was terrible; although he never saw her after his marriage, the news of her death broke him.
He trusted me enough to confess it to me…
and I believe Mr. Slade knew too. George was never able to forgive himself.
He could not allow anyone to see his suffering, so he locked in his pain and disguised his feelings.
From a lively, joyful man, he became an aloof and haughty one.
He gradually forbade himself to enjoy life, but he carried on, serving his wife and accomplishing his duty while he grieved for his lost love.
The truth is that Jenney Morton probably would have died even if she had married George, but they would have had a few years of happiness —the happiness I told you about.
But then, perhaps he would have suffered even more, knowing exactly what he had lost. Only God knows whether it would have been better… ”
“And —you think my mother did not know? Did not feel it?”
“I cannot say, my dear. George’s behaviour towards her was impeccable.
He complied with her every demand and wish; he gave her everything he could.
When she fell ill, he was not away from her a single day.
Her death devastated him…and I believe it increased his feelings of blame towards himself.
Until the end, I fear he considered himself guilty of disappointing and failing both women in his life. ”
The countess’s eyes shadowed with tears, and she drowned her last words in another swallow of port.
Darcy found no strength to speak or move.
He could feel his father’s turmoil and self-blame, the burden of the faults he carried so many years, the devastating struggle his heart had to bear against his mind and the demands of his duty.
The picture of the perfect gentleman he had always looked up to was slowly erased and redrawn until it revealed a more human —and even more admirable —man with his faults and virtues, trapped in a battle impossible to win from which he had no escape.
“I did not know…I never imagined…”
“I am very sorry, my dear, if I hurt you. I will probably hate myself tomorrow for everything I told you today. I beg your forgiveness…”
Darcy kissed her hand again. “Such suffering I have not felt for some time…but I am grateful to you for telling me. It helps me better understand some things…about my father and myself.”
“I hope and pray that you will not think less of George now…that you are not disappointed in him.”
“No —how could I? I know now that he is everything I knew him to be… and much more. He taught me everything I am today.”
“You must keep everything that is good from what he taught you and avoid his mistakes. And when it comes to your future life, you have an advantage that George lacked: you may choose for yourself. You have mastered Pemberley in an efficient way, and now you may do whatever you please; all decisions are yours. Choose wisely with an open mind and heart. If George were here now, I am sure he would tell you the same.”
The countess slowly rose from the chair, and Darcy followed her. She reached to embrace him, and he kissed her hands then put her hand on his arm.
“Come, let me accompany you back to the music room. I hear Georgiana and Miss Bennet playing. I will write to Lady Catherine later.”
“Yes, yes, she can wait. By the way, how does she know Miss Bennet?”
“Miss Bennet’s cousin is the parson of Hunsford parish; he married Miss Bennet’s friend, and she visited them last spring. I believe Lady Catherine found Miss Bennet too opinionated for her taste,” he attempted to jest.
He knew Lady Hardwick had changed the subject to dissipate some of the burdening grief that overwhelmed them both, and he tried to do the same.
“Of that, I have no doubt. It must have been entertaining to watch them together.”
“Quite; and if you knew Mr. Collins —the clergyman —you would have a better understanding of the entire picture.”
“So, that was where the colonel first met Miss Bennet.”
“Yes…”
“They seemed to enjoy each other’s company very much; they are rather alike in manners.”
“Yes…”
“Mr. Slade also admires Miss Bennet. He confessed to me while we walked together a few days ago. He said she is the most pleasant lady guest he has seen at Pemberley.”
“Truly? I was not aware that you enjoyed private walks with Mr. Slade,” Darcy teased his aunt.
“You are not entitled to know what kind of activities I enjoy privately with Mr. Slade, young man. That is entirely my business,” she replied in complete seriousness, and Darcy laughed aloud.
“And you should laugh more. Laughing makes you more handsome,” she concluded as they entered the music room together.
∞∞∞
Recollection of the story about his parents haunted Darcy. For days, he struggled to remember small details about his parents that would allow him to better understand the truth hidden within their perfect manners.
He started to consider the marriages of his relatives with different eyes —from another perspective.
He then remembered Bingley’s broad smile every time he was in his wife’s presence —always near her, touching her arm, losing himself in her eyes, and worrying about his ability to make his wife the happiest woman in the world.
And he understood that, of all his acquaintances, his young friend Bingley was likely the only one who married for love.
One day after Lady Catherine’s letter arrived, Colonel Fitzwilliam returned on his way back to London.
He remained overnight, much to the ladies’ pleasure.
He also informed Elizabeth —privately —that he had briefly met Mrs. Wickham, who looked remarkably well and seemed to enjoy her new friends, new life, and all the balls and parties to which she was often invited.
Lydia had no time to write a letter to Elizabeth, but she did send her best wishes to her sister.
The colonel departed for London shortly without fixed plans for seeing them again, and the four residents of Pemberley returned to their normal routine.
Elizabeth’s riding lessons brought the desired results, and she was able to ride daily on the paths along the lake, together with Georgiana.
Darcy joined them from time to time, but the cold weather kept Lady Hardwick mostly inside.
Plans for Christmas were made, and the arrival of the Bingleys was eagerly anticipated.
Then one night, the beauty of the estate was suddenly coloured in white.
Winter had come, freezing the roads, the fields, and the lakes, shortening the daylight and extending the darkness, and changing habits and plans.
The time spent outside diminished; however, the winter season gave Pemberley a new face worthy of being admired, and Elizabeth was ready to discover it.
She did not trust her new skill enough to ride on frozen roads, so she returned to walking, and the phaeton was replaced by a carriage.
Trapped inside the house, Elizabeth and Darcy found themselves more frequently in each other’s company.
Either for Georgiana’s sake or because they slowly made peace with their own feelings, they learnt to be more at ease with each other.
Consequently, conversations became more animated, and little debates and arguments that had enchanted Darcy during his first stay at Netherfield returned.