Page 25 of Companions of Their Youth
Mr. Bennet looked at her with surprising softness. “After you and Mark were born, and William’s father caused my horse to throw me, I could not move from bed for weeks. Mr. Jones warned me that I might never walk properly again, and that I might no longer be able to… engage in activities that would father children.”
“But you recovered. You can walk.”
“Yes, I recovered—fully. But God forgive me, I told your mother that I had not.”
Elizabeth’s eyes rose high on her head.
“And I also told her—very gently—that if one day she found herself with child again, I would not ask questions. I would be glad for her. I would raise that child as my own. Because I did not want her to be alone. And because, by then, we had made peace with the life we had made.”
She was quiet for a long time. Her eyes widened. “You gave her leave to…?”
“I gave her honesty. At first, she was terribly offended. Hurt. But I explained that it was not a license to sin, only a hope that she not be lonely. And we continued to share a bed. To talk. To comfort each other. But no more.”
“So Kitty and Lydia…” Her voice trailed off.
“I do not know who their fathers are,” he said simply. “I have never asked, nor will I ever. She bore them into this world, and I loved them the moment I heard their first cries. That is all that matters.”
Elizabeth gripped the arms of the chair. Her thoughts churned. “You do not resent her for her unfaithfulness?” she asked.
“Not in the least. I have only ever wanted her to feel loved, and to be safe. To do otherwise would make me a hypocrite of the worst kind.”
The silence stretched again, heavy with questions she could barely articulate.
Finally, she asked, voice scarcely above a whisper, “But is it not all a sin?”
He looked at her then—really looked at her. “That is the question that haunts me.”
She dared to continue. “You and Stephens. Mama with someone else. Breaking vows. And you—you love a man. That is warned against in Scripture. Leviticus says it is an abomination. Romans—”
“Romans speaks of unnatural affections,” he interrupted gently. “Yes. I know. I have read them many times. Along with the verses about owning slaves, about women remaining silent, about stoning the disobedient.”
Elizabeth stared at him. “You sound like a heretic. But you go to church. You pray. And you have encouraged all of us to live our lives the way God would want. Is it… is it all a farce? A facade, to hide—?”
“No,” he interrupted, a bit harshly, before modifying his tone and repeating, “No, it is not a deception. I believe in God, and I believe in His word.”
Her brow furrowed. “I do not understand, Papa. How can you believe one way but act another way?”
He exhaled slowly. “Well, I also believe in grace, and charity, and mercy.”
She held her breath.
“I have tried to live a good life,” he said quietly. “I have honored my father’s land and heritage. I attend church and say my prayers—and God knows just how many times I have begged Him to change me. I have educated my children. There are no mistresses, I have harmed no innocents, and I have loved only one person for the whole of my life—and I have done so in silence.”
He set his glass down. “And yet, I have seen cruelty from those who hide behind righteousness. Some of the worst boys at Harrow, those who abused others without pity, went on to become clergymen. I have seen men of the Ton drink and gamble, keep their mistresses, abuse their wives—and yet be called honorable because they gave to charity and are considered gentlemen.”
Elizabeth’s hands clenched in her lap.
“I cannot change who I am. I did not choose it. But Icanchoose how I live. And if the God I believe in is as loving and as just as the Good Book says, then perhaps—perhaps—He will see the whole of my life, not just the part that the world condemns. He knows I have sacrificed much, that I have made choices thatbenefit others over myself. He sees that, and I trust Him to know my heart and judge me accordingly.”
She did not know what to say. Only that she could feel her father’s heart—his pain, his love, his longing to be seen.
So she stood, walked around the desk, and threw her arms around his neck.
“I love you, Papa.”
He closed his eyes and held her tightly. “And I, you, Lizzy. More than you know.”
∞∞∞
