Page 99 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

“What about you, Mr Wilson. What are your intentions?” she asked daringly.

“I shall speak to Darcy at the first opportunity. I shall not enter Pemberley unless I know I am welcome. I shall apologize for any offence or harm I caused him. But I shall not apologize for the revenge I planned upon his relatives.”

Elizabeth breathed deeply. “Anne will be at Pemberley. She has changed so much lately. She has gained in health and self-confidence. She needs support and affection to overcome a life in which she believed herself ill and awaiting an early death. She is just learning how to live.”

Wilson frowned.

“And I have been told that Miss Georgiana Darcy is a wonderful, accomplished young woman with a beautiful character. I am sure she would love to meet her father’s old friend to benefit from his presence and his genuine affection and protection.”

She paused, but Wilson said nothing, so she continued.

“As Mr Darcy said: you were gone for twenty-five years, but now you are here, having the chance to compensate for your absence. Mr George Darcy is no longer there to welcome you, but he would be glad to have you at Pemberley. And your friendship may continue and grow. It is all in your power, sir. I hope you will use it wisely.”

Elizabeth slowly walked towards the house, Wilson following her.

The gentlemen joined her father in the library while she retired to her chamber to ponder their talk. Mr Wilson was full of surprises—some good, some bad. One never knew what to expect from him. She had been harsh with him, but he did not seem upset. For the impetuosity—even recklessness—he showed in his actions, he compensated with wisdom and common sense.

After the conversation with him, her distress remained. The fears, doubts, and disappointment were still there, contending with her reason, but the discussion helped her acquire a better understanding. There was much to consider and to comprehend. But her mind slowly cleared like the sky when the sun moves the clouds away.

That night, Elizabeth fell into a long restless, sleep filled with dreams of Pemberley and its master.

Chapter 24

Elizabeth’s disposition remained far from normal in the next days. But her low spirits were masked by Jane’s complete felicity. If the former Miss Bennet had been happy at the prospect of her marriage, the new Mrs Bingley was glowing, and people wondered which of the two spouses was smiling more.

“Dear Lizzy, if I could dare tell you how blissful my life is, you would be surprised,” Jane confessed as they walked in Netherfield’s garden.

Elizabeth smiled. “I am happy to see you so happy, dearest.”

“‘Happy’ is a poor word, I assure you. Everything we spoke of and wished for in marriage is insignificant compared to the joy I live with every day. And every night,” whispered Mrs Bingley, flustered.

Elizabeth laughed, and her own cheeks coloured too. “I believe I can imagine what you mean, Jane.”

“Dear Lizzy, the only thing I wish and pray for is to see you equally happy, to find your match, and to discover the same felicity in marriage.”

“We cannot both be so fortunate, dearest. And since I am neither as kind nor as beautiful as you, I cannot hope for the same fortune,” Elizabeth replied in jest.

“Of course you can, and I trust your hope will soon be replaced with certainty—perhaps even next month.”

“Jane, let us not assume more than can be. It would be dangerous for our sanity,” Elizabeth continued to joke.

“As you wish. I just hope neither of you allows pride and prejudice to harm your acquaintance again. Enough is enough,” Mrs Bingley said with surprising determination and mocking severity. “By the way, I look forward to seeing Pemberley. Charles speaks of it with such delight that his eagerness is contagious.”

Elizabeth said nothing.

“Mr Darcy told Charles that he has prepared an apartment in the west wing for us. Charles said he has never stayed in that part of the manor, but Mr Darcy wanted to assure our privacy,” she said, blushing.

Again, Elizabeth said nothing.

“He is very considerate, Lizzy. I believe he thinks of the treatment he would prefer if he were newly wedded.”

“He is considerate, indeed,” Elizabeth admitted.

Jane took her hand.” Lizzy, why did he leave in such haste? Did you argue again?”

Elizabeth startled at such a daring question.

“Forgive me for asking. But Charles and I speak of the two of you frequently. I did not tell him about the proposal, but your mutual affection is apparent. Charles said his felicity would be complete if he saw you and Mr Darcy married.”