Page 48 of Gold and Good Sense

“Possibly,” said Esther. “However, what is more probable is that Judge Darcy simply doesn’t consider the rest of your life or what else you might be capable of. If all he wants of you is pleasant conversation for an hour or two most days, your life will likely be very empty. This is especially true, if you find that you do not get along well with his friends’ wives.”

“I did not think of that,” said Mary. “I was simply pleased that someone saw some kind of merit in me. That has not happened often, so I focused solely on that. But I do see what you mean. Judge Darcy is not seeing me as a person he wishes to tie his life to. He is looking at me the same way Papa looked at you at first, as just a companion.”

Esther smiled a tiny secretive smile. “To a degree you are correct,” she said. “I would phrase it more as though he will treat his wife the same way he treats any servant. Judge Darcy is kind and liberal to his servants, but he would never consider them equals.”

Mary pondered this carefully. Suddenly, all her experiences watching how her father treated her mother came flooding into her mind. He had never respected her abilities or intelligence or even her capability of raising sensible daughters. The only thing Papa had ever respected in Mama was her housekeeping, and even there he frequently teased her about her tendency to spend more than necessary.

In some ways, it was the same way Judge Darcy treated Mary, herself. He only valued one part of her. The rest didn’t even enter his mind. However, after years of marriage, it was entirely possible that he would discover that he had no real respect for anything else she was.

She was adamant that she would not tolerate a marriage like her parents’. She was determined she would be respected. She did not need romantic love. At least, she had never expected it and would not demand it from her potential partner. But she did require respect. That was not something she would compromise on.

Mary studied Esther. She was clearly happy in her marriage to Papa, while Mama never had been. How could that be?

“How did you get Papa to respect you so much?” she asked. “How did you convince him to treat you as an equal?”

“That was simplicity itself,” said Esther. “From the very beginning of our acquaintance, I was clearly of a higher rank. I also had knowledge that he desperately needed. So, he listened when I spoke. As this happened repeatedly, he gained an understanding that I usually had good reasons for what I requested of him. Then things progressed from there. It all started, however, with us each having a very good reason to listen carefully when the other spoke. I can’t say that this is a universal principle, but that is what happened in this case.”

“I cannot do that,” said Mary despondently. “Judge Darcy has repeatedly said that he values my ability to listen to and understand him. He has never once asked me what my thoughts are other than to give himself more to talk about.”

“In that case, Mary, I think you have your answer,” said Esther gently.

For some reason, knowing that she would have to turn down Judge Darcy’s proposal hurt Mary a great deal. “Will there ever be a man who can respect me the way Papa respects you?” The question blurted out of her mouth without her permission, but it precisely explained why this hurt so much.

“Oh, Mary,” said Esther, “I cannot guarantee anything of the sort. However, I can say that you have just as much a chance at that as any of your sisters. There is much in you to admire, and a man who values your strengths would have great reason to wish for you to be his partner in life. You are only eighteen. You have many good years ahead of you.”

The emotional weight of the conversation overcame Mary, and she found relief by hugging Esther, allowing the older lady to offer what comfort she could.

Then Mary headed for the music room, the one room in the house where she felt most free to think.

~~~~~

Mary’s contemplation didn’t last long before her father entered the room. “Mary, are you aware that Judge Darcy came to call on me this morning?”

“I was not aware, but I am not surprised,” said Mary. “He told me he would seek you out once you were home again.”

“And did he tell you why?” Papa asked.

“Of course,” she replied. “In fact, it was my suggestion. You see, he has asked me to marry him.”

“You do not seem particularly pleased with the idea,” said Papa. “If it were Lydia, she would be jumping for joy, and if it were Elizabeth she would be stomping around the house declaring she could not possibly wed an old coot such as him.”

Mary shook her head at his portrayals of her sisters. “I am neither Lydia nor Elizabeth,” she said. “Nor am I Jane. I am just me, Mary. Up until this morning, I did not have a strong opinion one way or the other about the match, though I suspected I would accept him. He is a good man and well respected among everyone he meets. I couldn’t possibly find a better match.”

“You said ‘until this morning.’ Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?” asked Papa.

“Esther said something that opened my eyes a great deal,” said Mary, though she noticed the slight hint of a smile when she called her new mother by her name. She continued. “She pointed out that Judge Darcy does not want all of me, only a small part. That means that the parts of my personality that he does not actively want may eventually cause him great irritation.”

Mary hesitated. Then she added, “Much the way it was with you and Mama.”

Papa’s eyes widened, but he thought a moment before replying. “I think you may be correct. When Judge Darcy talked to me about marrying you, he was focused entirely on your conversation. Does he even know what you do with your time or what your housekeeping skills are like?”

“He is aware of my studies, since that is what furnishes our conversations,” said Mary. “As far as I know, he knows nothing else. Almost all of his visits were taken up by stories he told me of his life as a judge.”

Papa sadly nodded. “That fits with what I know of the man,” he said. “While Judge Darcy can be quite congenial and charming in company, he is fundamentally a selfish being, as any wealthy man who has been single for decades must be. He knows no other way, and I am nearly certain he is too old to learn how to be anything else. If you marry him, you will have to accept that fact.”

“I will not marry him,” Mary said firmly. “I will not place myself in a position to be denigrated constantly for the next two or three decades for not possessing qualities he assumed I had but were never there.”

Papa did not seem either surprised or disappointed, and for that Mary was grateful. She did not know what she would do if her father tried to convince her to accept this proposal.