Hope and Sensibility, page 2
“While it is true that your brother and I find much joy in our marriage, your situation is not to be compared to mine. I was not reared to expect a Season in town, and I was certainly never given to expect a presentation. You, on the other hand, were. How many times have Lady Ellen and Lord Matlock spoken of it as being a favourite wish of your beloved mother, Lady Anne, that you should enjoy all the same benefits that she enjoyed as a young woman? They would view it as a failure to honour her memory to do any less than see you enjoy all the advantages that your family’s elevated rank and privilege afford.”
“This I understand and it must be said that were I to consent to do so it would only be for the sake of appeasing them—and honouring my mother, of course.”
“I continue to have a difficult time comprehending your change in stance as regards your coming out.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“When we met last year, I recall you spoke with such ardent enthusiasm about wanting to come out. What has changed?”
“Truth be told, my eagerness was a mere pretence. Mind you, I had a good reason for speaking as I did. What I dared not say upon first making your acquaintance is I truly do not see that my coming out will help accomplish anyone’s purposes, for I am as good as promised to another.”
Her brow raised, Elizabeth said, “This is not the first time you have suggested as much, but I do wish you would be more forthcoming with me. Who is this young man to whom you feel you are pledged?”
“Elizabeth, I would love nothing more than to tell you all about him, but I fear that it would place you in an untenable position, for I do not wish to have my brother privy to any of this. You see, he does not approve of the gentleman. If he were aware of my feelings he would be angered, and I have no wish to injure my brother—especially when the entire matter is so tenuous.”
“Georgiana, it does not do for you to feel you cannot confide in me. Pray, have you spoken with anyone? Anne perhaps—does Anne know?”
“Heaven forbid!”
“You say that as if your cousin Anne is the last person in whom you would confide.”
“Anne and I may have made some progress since she came to live with us here at Pemberley, but I would not say she and I are as intimate as we would have to be before I told her my greatest secrets. Besides, when it comes to such matters, she and my brother are more alike than you would imagine. She surely would not approve of the gentleman either.”
“Then I take it that this gentleman, who shall remain unnamed, is known to your family.”
“You might say that, although I would say he is not truly known, for if they understood his character as I do, then they would surely approve of him.”
“Is he someone whom I have met?”
“I do not believe you have met him, but I dare say that, if you had, you would have found him to be charming, amiable, and exceedingly handsome.” She folded her hands over her chest. “Oh, Elizabeth, he is everything a gentleman ought to be.”
Her eyebrows furrowed, Elizabeth said, “How long has it been since you last saw him?”
“A number of years have passed since I last saw him and, before you ask, no—we do not correspond, for he is too much of a gentleman to dishonour me in that fashion.”
“Then, it is safe to say that you do not know what the gentleman’s intentions are at present?” Elizabeth read in Georgiana’s eyes uncertainty and a lack of enthusiasm that had not been there moments earlier. “Georgiana, I am sorry if my questions give rise to discomfort, but it does not do to hold onto something that might never be, especially as you have determined to delay your coming out and effectively put your life on hold.”
“Elizabeth, I am doing what is in my best interest. You see, he is much older than I am—a gentleman of the world, of sense and education. He asked me to wait for him, and I promised him I would. I can do no less.”
Chapter 3
Pray my eyes deceive me! Darcy hurried his steps in order to disrupt the disturbing situation unfolding just down the hall. “Mr. Coolidge, Georgiana, pray I am not interrupting.”
Slender and soft-spoken, the younger man took a step back. “No, sir, I was just begging Miss Darcy’s forgiveness.”
Darcy arched his brow. “Pardon?”
Georgiana graced Mr. Coolidge with an angelic smile. “Sir, as I was explaining, there is nothing to forgive.”
Darcy said, “Perhaps I should be the judge of that.”
“Oh! No, Fitzwilliam. You see, Mr. Coolidge and I nearly collided. I simply was not paying attention to where I was going.” She looked at Mr. Coolidge again, her eyes full of sympathy for his awkward plight in being subjected needlessly to her brother’s scrutiny. “If the two of you will pardon me, I will be on my way.”
Both men watched as Georgiana hurried off. Then Darcy directed his stern gaze at Coolidge, young Ben’s tutor.
“Sir, I was on my way to request a private audience with you.”
Darcy pursed his lips. This was the last thing he wanted; however, Coolidge was a decent man. The least Darcy could do was grant him this final wish.
“I shall see you in my study.”
Moments later, the two men sat on opposite sides of Darcy’s large and imposing mahogany desk.
“Sir—” Darcy’s guest tugged at his collar. “Mr. Darcy, I wish to speak with you regarding a matter of some importance.”
“Certainly, Mr. Coolidge.” Oh, how Darcy dreaded the impending discussion. It would certainly not have been the first time a gentleman of meagre means had sought to improve his lot in life by seeking an advantageous alliance. How many times had he seen Coolidge and his sister in situations the uninformed eye would merely interpret as a chance encounter? Then, too, there were those times when Darcy had observed the manner in which Coolidge looked at Georgiana when he thought he was undetected.
Darcy could never recall the tutor being so ill at ease and, although he supposed he would feel decidedly worse once the conversation was over, he sought to make the man feel comfortable. “What is your purpose in requesting this meeting?”
“Well, sir, there is a situation in the class that warrants your attention.”
Darcy inwardly exhaled. Coolidge’s business had nothing to do with his sister. “So, this meeting has to do with Ben’s progress in his studies.”
“Indeed, it does, in a manner of speaking. Master Bennet is an exemplary student, and it is such a great pleasure to work with him. What concerns me is his insistence that young Samuel be tutored right alongside him. Frankly, the lad has not the capacity for learning as does the young master. If I am to be completely honest, I would say the situation ends up frustrating us all.”
“I was not aware that you were tutoring young Samuel Reynolds right alongside my son. How long has this been going on?”
“It has been going on for the past month, sir.”
“I suppose you are acting at Ben’s request in an effort to appease him. I know how persistent he can be when it comes to his young friend.”
“It is not just Master Bennet who wishes it. Were that only the case, but the situation also enjoys the blessings of his—” The colour washed over Coolidge’s face, and he stopped speaking.
“Go on then, Mr. Coolidge. You were about to say.”
“Well, sir, I do not wish to speak out of turn, but I fear to say more would risk overstepping my bounds.”
Darcy observed the younger man, who appeared far more nervous than he ought to, feverishly searching his brain for the apt words to say. Engaging Coolidge’s services had been Mrs. Darcy’s idea: a compromise of sorts. Despite his young age, Ben needed the structure of a formal, more advanced education. Darcy had recommended that they consider an elite boarding school until he was old enough to attend Eton. Elizabeth would not hear of being apart from her son at such a young age. It was a matter easily settled, at least for the time being, for Darcy did not truly wish to have Ben away so soon either, even though he posited it was only a matter of time. Ben would indeed be sent to Eton, as had been the case for Darcy and as would be the case for his other, albeit unborn, sons when the time was right.
Mr. Coolidge, the nephew of Darcy’s solicitor, was well studied. He had every right to be concerned with the progress he was making with Ben, for if Ben was not benefiting from his tutelage, then he must be away and Ben must be off to boarding school.
“I engaged you primarily for the sake of educating my son. I expect you to be completely forthcoming if there are obstacles in your path that prevent the attainment of the goals we laid out at the start of your employment.”
Coolidge shifted his position in the large leather chair. “Perhaps my coming to you in this manner was a mistake, sir. I suppose I might try—”
Darcy stood from his seat and walked around to the other side of his desk to sit opposite the tutor. “What are you trying to avoid telling me?”
“Well, sir, I spoke with Mrs. Darcy, and she is aware of my concerns with having young Samuel present in the schoolroom.”
Darcy now understood the young man’s predicament for Elizabeth likely dismissed the tutor’s concerns in favour of appeasing Ben’s wish to have his friend Samuel with him throughout the day.
“You have said enough, sir. For now, I encourage you to do whatever Mrs. Darcy has advised. I will address this matter. Soon you shall find that all of your attention is focused upon Ben’s education as it should be. He is advanced in his thinking and reasoning abilities for one who is so young, but that is all the more reason to continue guiding his formal education so that when he is off to boarding school, he will be even further along.”
Darcy sent the tutor on his way, and then strode over to the window overlooking a rather well-stocked lake. Ben and Samuel had a habit of fishing there. While Darcy made certain that Ben was well supervised when anywhere near the water, Ben did not necessarily know it. Ben’s fierce independent streak would have balked at the very notion of someone watching over him at all times. Ben’s friendship with Samuel was not at issue, for Darcy knew how much it meant to his son to have someone of his own age with whom to spend his days. However, Ben needed to understand that he and Samuel were as different as night and day. Ben’s future life would be that of a gentleman, a wealthy landowner and master, whereas Samuel, if he worked hard and applied himself, might one day escape the legacy of his birth, that of a servant, and he might become a physician, a lawyer, even a clergyman. He might even be a steward of a large magnificent estate, but he would never be in the same sphere as Ben.
Darcy’s mind drifted back to the days of his own youth—days played out in much the same way as Ben was spending his days, whiling away the hours with his closest friend. Darcy’s closest friend had been the son of his own father’s steward.
George Wickham.
Darcy shook his head. My beloved father, may his soul rest in peace, never knew what a mistake it had been to expose Wickham to a life that would never be his own—could never be his own. In fact, Darcy had come to liken his father’s charity to a sin: a sin he had no intention of repeating. Darcy could find no fault in young Samuel, none to speak of anyway. He was always polite and good-mannered; just as one would expect of the grandchild of the woman who had been more like a mother to him than a housekeeper in the years after his beloved mother passed away. She was even more so to Darcy’s young sister, Georgiana, who never truly knew their mother.
Still, the prospect of putting temptations before young Samuel Reynolds, of planting seeds of want and aspirations of wealth and privilege in the young boy’s mind, was something Darcy dared not entertain. He crossed the room with long, determined strides and rang the bell for a footman. I need to speak with Ben. Now.
Not long after, Ben and his friend Samuel, to whom Ben attached the appellation Sir Gawain—the most trustworthy friend of Sir Lancelot whenever they took up their Arthurian games, raced into Darcy’s study. “Good morning, Da.”
“Good morning, Ben.” Darcy stood and walked to the boys. “Samuel, how are you this morning?”
“I am getting along very well, sir. I thank you for asking.”
Darcy smiled. “You are quite welcome. I should like very much to have a private audience with my son just now.”
Ben and Samuel exchanged glances: Ben’s questioning and Samuel’s contrite.
Turning to his father, Ben said, “Da, I am excited to go riding this morning, and Samuel is too.”
“I assure you that what I have to say shall not interfere with your plans. Now run along, Samuel. Ben will join you in the stables as soon as we are done.”
Soon after Samuel quitted the room Ben said, “Will you join us on our ride as well? What good fun it would be.”
“Not this morning, Ben. Perhaps you and I shall enjoy a ride later this afternoon.”
Ben’s eyes brightened. “Shall it be the three of us? I should enjoy that even better.”
“It will be solely the two of us, Ben.”
His shoulders slumped, Ben said, “Da, I cannot help but consider that you are not very fond of Samuel, and I think he feels the same. He was hesitant to come with me for fear you might object to his being here.”
“Ben, if your friend was reluctant to enter my study uninvited, then it is as it should be.”
“But of course he had an invitation. I invited him.”
“So you did.”
“Yet you made him feel unwelcome.”
How was Darcy to explain to Ben the edicts of etiquette that dictated that servants did not simply gallivant throughout the halls of Pemberley or enter the master’s study uninvited? Such behaviour was just the thing that George Wickham would have done when Darcy and he were children. That turned out very badly. Fortunately, Ben had never met George Wickham. To the extent it is within my power, he never will.
“An unintended consequence, I am sure.”
“Then you will reconsider? You will go riding with Samuel and me.”
“I never said that.”
“Please, Da. I should like that very much.”
“You cannot always get what you want.”
“I know you tell me that, and I know it is true, but I do not simply want Samuel to share all I enjoy—I rely upon it. It is such a joy to wake each morning knowing we will spend the whole day together.”
“Once your lessons are done, you are at leisure to enjoy the entire day with your friend. Indeed, this brings me to my purpose in asking to see you.” Darcy took Ben by the hand and encouraged him to have a seat by the fireplace.
“Ben, I need you to understand that your study time is intended solely for you and Mr. Coolidge. I am afraid Samuel’s presence comes at your expense. The time Mr. Coolidge is spending with Samuel is time he might otherwise be spending with you.”
“What I have found is quite the opposite. You see, I had been spending part of my time teaching Samuel to read and write and add and subtract. I do not agree that it takes time away from my lessons—it adds to my lessons.”
“Ben, this really is not a matter for debate.”
“Da, why can you not see that this arrangement works out best for all concerned? The time I spend with Samuel on his lessons is time not spent at leisure.”
“I suppose the only fallacy in your argument is the premise that you need spend any time at all attending to Samuel’s education.”
“Oh, but I truly must. Else he will never be able to fully enjoy the tales of the knights of the roundtable on his own. He must continue to rely upon my reading it to him. He would much rather read to himself.”
“Ben, did Samuel ask you to take such a task upon yourself?”
Ben cast his eyes downward. “Not in so many words.”
“Then how do you know it is important to him?”
“Because! One day, I came across him in the stable poring over the pages of The Knights of the Roundtable, struggling to make out the words—with no success whatsoever.”
“Your favourite book? How did it come to be in the stables of all places?”
“Well, it used to be my favourite book. It now belongs to Samuel. He told me it is his favourite. But what good is there in having a favourite book if one cannot read a single word it says?”
“I will allow that your reasoning in that regard is sound, and it is a good thing that you wish to see young Samuel establish the same deep appreciation of the legend of King Arthur that you enjoy. However, I will not allow that it is Mr. Coolidge’s job to see that it comes about. Samuel is no longer allowed to attend your lessons with you, and you must refrain from encouraging him to do so.”
“But, Da?”
“No buts, young man. I believe your friend is waiting for you at the stables. You must not continue to keep him waiting.”
Ben remained seated as if refusing to be dismissed so easily as that. How he reminded Darcy of Elizabeth in that regard.
“I should have thought you would have been very proud of my gallantry towards Samuel.”
“Ben, I am proud of you.”
“Is it not a very noble thing to want to encourage him? Is a proper education not just as important for my friend as it is for me?”
“Your efforts might be described as very noble. However, there are many young children who live amongst the tenants who might benefit equally.”
“Then what say you we go about teaching them all?”
“Educating the masses is not something that I have ever given serious consideration, Ben, and for the time being, neither should you. No—my purpose is to do all in my power to see that you are reared as a proper gentleman so that when you reach the age of majority and take your rightful place amongst elite society, you shall be properly prepared.”
Elizabeth walked into the room. “Ben, I had not expected to find you here. I thought you and Samuel might be off enjoying some new adventure.”
“Mama, I am glad you are here. Da and I cannot agree over a matter that has to do with my friend Samuel and me.”
