Page 9 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

“Indeed. And perhaps an estate in Derbyshire if I can find something to my liking.”

All eyes turned to him, and there was silence for several moments.

He looked puzzled by their reaction. “Have I said something improper? If so, please forgive me.”

“No, not at all,” Mr Bennet intervened. “I believe we are all dumbfounded by the notion that you wish to buy three houses. Nobody in our family can imagine that. Your time in India must have been extremely successful.”

“I apologise; I did not mean to sound arrogant. And yes, at least from your point of view, my staying abroad so many years could be called successful. I have no reason to worry about my income any longer.”

“You want to buy a house?” Lydia said. “Perhaps Netherfield will be for sale if Mr Bingley does not return.”

Silence fell again; Jane turned pale and gulped some water while Lydia’s face wore a smile of satisfaction that she had such a brilliant idea.

“Oh, do not be silly, child!” her mother tempered her. “Mr Bingley might return most anytime. And Netherfield is let for a year at least. But there are several other lovely properties in the neighbourhood, I imagine. It depends on how much you plan to invest in it, Mr Wilson.”

“The price is not an issue, madam. If it is close enough to your family, and my sister and her husband approve of it, I may purchase it right away.” There was no sign of arrogance in his voice, only calmness and a slight indifference as if the matter was of little consequence.

After another long moment of silence and awkward stares, Mr Bennet said, “Well, let us finish dinner and then retire. I believe we have had enough excitement for one evening; we may talk business after Christmas. Until then, our house will hopefully accommodate us all, although I am afraid our guest room is not as large as you might expect, Mr Wilson. I hope you will rest well enough, though.”

“I need nothing but a bed and perhaps a chair, sir. What matters is the company, which will make my sleep easy and restful,” Mr Wilson responded with a polite nod of his head.

“Sir, you plan to buy a house in London too?” Mrs Bennet suddenly asked, regardless of her husband’s suggestion that they delay talk of business until after the holiday.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“In any particular area? Since you were gone for so long, you may not know that houses in London are much more expensive than the ones in Meryton. For instance, I know Mr Bingley has a house on Grosvenor Street. Mr Darcy might have one around Park Lane, but I am not certain,” Mrs Bennet continued, despite her eldest daughters’ obvious distress.

“I thank you for your kind concern, madam. I shall take everything you have told me into consideration and shall decide in consultation with my sister and brother-in-law. But you mention a Mr Darcy: Could he be related to the Darcy family in Derbyshire?”

“Yes, brother,” Mrs Gardiner replied. “Mr Darcy—the youngest one—stayed at Netherfield with his friend Mr Bingley. This was before we arrived. It seems they unexpectedly returned to Town at the end of November, so I have not met them in person.”

“I knew the Darcys quite well—the present master’s father and grandfather. They were extraordinary gentlemen—among the best I have ever known,” Mr Wilson said.

Mrs Bennet had a contrary view. “Well, we are sad to report that the youngest one inherited few of their qualities. He is haughty and arrogant, full of disdain for everyone. He rarely speaks two words together and ignores everyone around him. He refused to dance with Lizzy at an assembly, but he seemed to change his mind later as he danced a set with her at the Netherfield ball. But he is still unpleasant, and we are all happy that he left. Unfortunately, he took Mr Bingley with him. Mr Bingley was such a nice, amiable gentleman—and handsome enough. We all thought he would stay at Netherfield for a long time. We hoped he would settle here, actually. But there are still hopes he will return.”

Mr Wilson listened, dumbfounded, making a visible effort to follow this storm of information. He nodded from time to time, glancing at his sister and brother-in-law.

“I am sorry young Mr Darcy does not rise to the expectations of his parents. At least that is what I understand—is that correct? It seems he made a rather poor impression upon you.”

“Indeed he did, sir—upon everyone in the neighbourhood,” Mrs Bennet concluded.

“There is no greater flaw in a man than to avoid dancing at a ball when there are many young ladies without a partner,” Mr Bennet intervened in jest. “To me, he proved to have very poor taste in ladies since he called my Lizzy ’barely tolerable.’”

Mr Wilson’s disbelief was apparent. “Surely, he did not make such a rude remark in public!”

“He did—right at the Meryton assembly when we first met him!” said Mrs Bennet. “He intended to whisper to Mr Bingley, but Lizzy heard him!”

“I am sorry to hear that. I surely would not expect George Darcy’s son to offend a young lady, even more so one who surely did not deserve such a description.”

“Oh, do not worry; Lizzy did not care at all,” Lydia added. “He was very unpleasant. Even when he danced with her at Netherfield, Lizzy was not at all happy.”

“I believe we have talked enough of Mr Darcy for one evening,” said Elizabeth. “It is not polite to speak ill of someone in his absence, even if that person does not deserve our care. Besides, Mr Wilson surely would appreciate a more interesting subject of conversation.”

“Indeed. Is it not rewarding to spend twenty-five years away from home then return and listen for half the evening about Mr Darcy’s refusal to dance and make easy conversation at a ball?” Mr Bennet said mockingly. “What could be more entertaining?”

Mr Wilson hid his smile behind his napkin. “Indeed. I am sorry to hear such things about a gentleman whose family I have known, but he truly has poor taste if he did not appreciate Miss Elizabeth’s witty charm. I only needed a couple of minutes to recognise it. I shall surely hold him accountable for that should I happen to meet him in person.”

A peal of laughter escaped from Elizabeth, and her eyes met the gentleman’s joyful ones. He seemed utterly changed in the last hours, and his comfortable easiness among their family was undeniable.