Page 10 of Bitterness of Spirit

“That is not always true, Miss Elizabeth. A gentleman may ask indeed, but the final answer—the acceptance or the rejection—lies in the lady’s hands and heart. And such an answer might be painful to accept for most men,” Mr. Wilson added.

“Fortunately, men are not often in the position of facing an unfavourable answer. Most ladies accept a request to stand up with a gentleman who appears honourable,” Elizabeth continued the debate.

“Perhaps; but there are other circumstances when a man asks and then has to bear the torture of waiting for the answer,” Mr. Wilson replied with apparent preoccupation.

“Some women—fortunately not too many—thoughtlessly reject a perfectly good proposal that could easily provide them with a comfortable home and a safe future for their families,” Mrs. Bennet uttered sharply, glaring at her second daughter. “And other women—such as Charlotte Lucas, who knows her own interest—are slick enough to grab such opportunities that arise from another’s foolishness.”

Mr. Wilson looked dumbfounded again. “I am afraid I do not understand. Is Charlotte Lucas one of your acquaintances? Did she do anything wrong?”

“Mr. Wilson, do us all a favour and inquire no further—at least for tonight,” Mr. Bennet intervened. “I speak for your own benefit. After such a tormenting journey, you deserve a restful sleep. Would you like to visit my library and have another drink in silence?”

Mr. Wilson’s puzzlement increased along with Elizabeth’s embarrassment. Although she was grateful to her father for stopping the distressing tirade, she could not deny that he had been blunt and rather rude towards her mother.

The gentlemen’s withdrawal to the library put an end to the awkward moment. Afterwards, Mrs. Bennet continued to rant about Elizabeth’s lack of care for her family and Charlotte’s scheming nature until Mrs. Gardiner masterfully changed the topic.

Around midnight, the family retired for the night. Elizabeth and Jane spent a while talking about the extraordinary events and no less exceptional gentleman who entered their lives before Christmas. The notion that he returned so wealthy that he could afford to buy three properties at once was astonishing, and they were reluctant to accept it. It must have been a dinner joke, they concluded. His clothes and carriage spoke of a comfortable situation in life, but surely, it could not be as much as was implied.

Mr. Wilson was undoubtedly a man who found great enjoyment in mocking people and finding amusement at their expense—much like their father.

Then, he said he had been in the army but was of greater service to His Majesty through his business. Another jest—it must have been.

Elizabeth also remembered that he said he knew of his family but could not be in touch with them for their own safety. And then he mentioned that he had lost track of them in the preceding ten years. What could he have been doing all that time?

Even Mr. Bingley was forgotten for a while—along with his scheming sisters and haughty friend. Mr. Gilbert Drake Wilson held their complete attention although he had been there for mere hours.

Chapter 3

London

The Matlocks’ dining room was handsome by itself, but for Christmas Eve, the arrangements were stunning. Lady Matlock took special pride and joy in that time of the year and insisted on having the entire family around her table, as well as a large number of friends and relatives. Her eldest son’s birthday and her own were celebrated together, and even the servants benefited from her disposition and generosity.

Darcy and his sister faced each other, exchanging comforting glances and little smiles of mutual understanding among the other five and twenty people. There were voices, laughter, debates, music, and even some attempts at dancing between courses.

Colonel Fitzwilliam and his brother were the heart of the party, as opposed to their cousin who behaved with perfect propriety to satisfy his aunt’s expectations but nothing more.

Darcy watched the young ladies in attendance more carefully than usual. He wanted to understand, to compare. He looked at the beautiful young ladies—all heiresses with impeccable manners and extended educations, dressed in the latest of fashion, struggling to gain the gentlemen’s attention. They looked and behaved flawlessly, yet no look warmed him inside, no smile caught his interest, and no eyes aroused his admiration. To him, nobody could compare to her. She was the only one; she was everything—just not meant to be. And if he could not have her in his life, he might as well never accept anyone else.

“Darcy, are you unwell?” Richard’s voice startled him, and he raised his glass with pretended joy.

“Not at all. I am perfectly fine.”

“Can you be tempted to dance? Or at least join us in conversation? There is nothing the ladies loathe more than to be ignored.”

“It is not my intention to ignore anyone, and I shall do my share of entertaining for my aunt’s sake—except for dancing.”

His last dance had been with her, and he intended to keep that memory as long as he could. Her scent, her skin, her touches, her smiles, her sparkling eyes, the garnet cross sparking on her cleavage, the gown falling gracefully around her. It was the most alluring dance, and he would never be able to repeat or replace it.

“Except for dancing,” he repeated, both to his cousin and to himself.

***

Hertfordshire

Christmas was celebrated at Longbourn with joy and a great number of guests. Mr. Wilson held the interest of the entire neighbourhood. He preferred to be presented as Mr. Gilbert Drake Wilson—and his family kept their puzzlement private. He was not a man to be questioned regarding his preferences, so anything they did not know for sure they imagined and presumed, just like the other Meryton families.

Mr. Wilson quickly became a friend of the Gardiner children. He was happy to meet them, and after the first moments of surprise, they welcomed him wholeheartedly. As soon as they found a few moments, Mrs. Gardiner and her brother engaged in private conversation. It was obvious they still had many things to discuss and needed time to adapt to each other. A day and an evening, after a separation of twenty-five years, meant as much as a drop of water in the sea. Time, distance, and many secrets separated them, and although both were eager to repair the broken bond between them, it was a daunting and arduous task.

There was little time for privacy at Longbourn at that time of the year, though.