Chapter 15 #2
“Probably because he was as much the opposite of that other man as it is possible to be, if he resembled Mr Darcy. Are you certain that is the proper criterion for a man? That he be not what you are accustomed to?”
“Perhaps. That is part of what worries me. Are we both just looking for the opposite of what we have experienced, and if so, how would we know?”
“How do you intend to find out?”
“Oh, you will work it out.”
“That is far from the best idea you ever had, Jane.”
“Perhaps not, but it will do.”
“Pray, continue.”
“I engineered an introduction. Uncle Gardiner knew a man who knew him, and he arranged it. I fear the first entreaty was received with about as much grace as Mr Darcy showed you, but he found his manners and reconsidered. I was too far away to hear what was said, which was probably for the best.”
“I can assure you that eavesdroppers never hear well of themselves.”
“I suppose not. At any rate, he did ask and we endured the most awkward dance in history.”
“The second most awkward.” Elizabeth laughed. “You should have seen me with Mr Darcy at the Netherfield ball.”
“I missed that entirely.”
Elizabeth shook her head, resolving that Mr Darcy must not distract them from the matter at hand.
“He took me back to Aunt and Uncle when the dance was over, resumed his pacing for half an hour, and left. I thought that would be the last I ever saw of him,” Jane said wistfully.
“And was it?”
“No. I saw him a week later at another ball. He seemed in better spirits. He greeted me cordially and asked me to dance almost at once.”
“Was that one better?”
“Marginally. We at least talked, though nothing beyond the commonplaces.”
“He sounds more and more like Mr Darcy with every step. At least you did not quarrel with him.”
“I suppose so. I saw him again at a supper party a week later, and again at a musical soirée. We gradually lost some of our guardedness, but I was taken aback when he called 2 days later.”
“What did you do then?”
“We talked, became a bit more comfortable, took the children to the park, and parted company. It was not unpleasant, but not pleasant either. It was mostly awkward, and I expected that was the end of it. I was ambivalent about whether that was good or bad.”
“It does not sound promising.”
“No, but he persisted, called every few days, and occasionally encountered me at entertainments. Aunt and Uncle have been taking me out more than usual, and they also send me with trusted friends sometimes.”
“So, your Mr Darcy… ah… Jameson… you say he gradually warmed?”
“He became less guarded and I reciprocated. Our conversations took on more depth, and before I knew it, we were… well, we were something. I do not know exactly what we are or how we got there. My feelings are a muddle. I was in the middle before I knew I had started. Now… now—”
Elizabeth took Jane’s hands. “Now?”
“Now… we are stuck. We are more than friends, but less than lovers. We are both so cautious that the slightest ripple may end this thing before we even know what it is.”
“Would that be a bad thing?”
Jane stared back in deep thought. “Suppose—hypothetically, naturally—that you began to feel some partiality for Mr Darcy, then he left. Would you always wonder?”
“Probably for a while, but sooner or later, one can leave the past in the past.”
“But what if I do not want to leave it in the past?”
Elizabeth’s temper flared. “Then do something about it! Are you to let timidity be your downfall one more time, Jane? Playing the sheep did you no favours in Meryton.”
Jane snapped back with surprising vehemence, “I am doing something, Lizzy. I am begging my sister for help. Is that too much to ask?”
Elizabeth sat back, unnerved at seeing Jane’s temper once more. This time, it had none of the fire she used on her parents. She was angry, but it was tinged with desperation, and most likely, aimed more at herself than anyone else.
Elizabeth knew better than most how one’s mental foibles and insecurities could cripple them from action, since much of her childhood had been thus consumed.
Elizabeth sat forward and took Jane’s hands. “All right, Jane. Be at ease. I will talk to your Mr Jameson tomorrow.”
Jane gave a humourless chuckle. “He is not my Mr Jameson.”
“After tomorrow he either will be, or he will not—but at least you will be closer to knowing.”
“Thank you, Lizzy. I know how hard it is for you.”
“You would do the same for me.”
“No, I would not. You have a talent I lack.”
“Do not undervalue yourself. You have your own skills. You are just too close to this particular problem.”
“And you are not?”
“I am not, being relatively indifferent to the outcome.”
“You know, Lizzy, something occurs to me.”
“What?”
“It took me a while to work it out because I did not know the particulars, but now I can look back on my first meeting with Mr Jameson with clarity. What I saw on his face was the distress of betrayal. It is clear to me now, though I did not know how to detect the signs before.”
“A useful skill.”
“It makes me wonder. Now I can recognise the particular expression in a man who has been betrayed in the worst possible way but is forced back into society before he is ready.”
“As I said, a useful skill.”
Jane looked at her intently. “Consider this. When I described a man suffering a recent betrayal of the worst kind but forced into society, who did I use as an example?”
Elizabeth stared at her in confusion until she made the connection.
Jane got up from the sofa. “We shall probably never meet Mr Darcy again, but if we do, we might have more to think about. He had the look, Lizzy… he had the look.”