Chapter 2
It rained from dawn until midnight, by which time the rain turned to snow that soon covered the ground. Then strong wind joined the snow, becoming a blizzard. The frozen world kept the Bennets and Gardiners inside and discouraged guests.
But for Elizabeth, winter’s cold was as appealing as summer’s warmth, and a stroll in the garden was always inviting. With the intense preparations for Christmas Eve—split between her sisters, her younger cousins, and her mother’s demands—she only had the chance for a solitary walk before dinner.
As soon as she ventured outside, her smile of delight was washed away by the wind-whipped snow falling on her face.
Still, she moved towards the back garden, her spirit aroused by the fresh, cold air.
Her feet were soon chilled, her half boots offering little protection against the frozen ground.
Nevertheless, she felt joyful and eager to walk even further until the storm’s fierceness defeated her playful disposition and forced her to retreat towards the house.
At that time of year, darkness came early, and the curtain of snow and fiercely blowing wind allowed her to see as little as she could hear.
However, a slight noise stopped her at the door, and she saw a carriage of significant size stop at the main gate.
A person of large stature and impressive posture stepped decidedly towards her.
When he was close enough, she realized he was a complete stranger; his clothes were of the latest fashion and complimented his apparent self-confidence.
Though she certainly had never seen him before, his face bore a trace of familiarity that puzzled her.
“Miss, forgive me for troubling you; is this Longbourn—the property of a Mr Bennet?”
The voice was hoarse and as sharp as the wind that struck Elizabeth’s face; his blue eyes were dark and cold, and his right eyebrow and temple were crossed by a scar that made Elizabeth shiver. She struggled to smile politely.
“Yes, sir. I am Elizabeth Bennet; Mr Bennet is my father. May I be of any help to you?”
“Indeed. I apologise for my impromptu appearance; I do not want to intrude, but I would be grateful to know if a Madeleine Wilson is staying here.”
“I am afraid not, sir. And I do not know anyone by that name in the neighbourhood.”
He appeared disconcerted and incredulous, struggling to keep his temper.
“Are you certain? Please forgive my rude question, but I was told that I might find her here.”
“I can see your distress, sir, but I assure you I am positive. There is a lady named Madeleine here, but she is my aunt, Mrs Gardiner.”
“Oh yes, I am such a fool. Mrs Gardiner, of course. Would you be so kind as to ask her if I may have a moment of her time? I shall wait outside. I do not wish to disturb your family.”
She hesitated a moment. “Of course, sir. I am also a fool; I should have remembered that my aunt’s maiden name was Wilson. I shall announce you to her and my uncle—Mr Gardiner—in a moment. But please come inside.”
He followed her reluctantly, and Elizabeth fought her desire to stare at him one more time.
Who was this man, and what business did he have with her aunt?
His interest in speaking to her was obviously pressing, as was his disappointment when he feared he was wrong.
He looked much older than Mrs Gardiner—and even Mr Gardiner and probably her father too.
Or was it just the scar and his severity that added years to his countenance?
The family were gathered in the drawing room, and Elizabeth ignored her mother’s reproachful voice asking where she had been in such weather.
She smiled then whispered to her aunt, “A gentleman I have never seen before is asking to speak to you. I believe you should bring Uncle with you.”
“A gentleman? To speak to me? Here at Longbourn?”
“Yes.”
“How odd. I know nobody in the county except your family.”
“I know, but he insisted and seemed to have important reasons for doing so. What do you wish me to do? Where is Uncle?”
“If it seems important, I shall see him, of course. Your uncle is with your father in the library.”
“I shall fetch him. Shall we meet in the hall in few moments?”
“Very well, Lizzy. But do not be so secretive; you are frightening me,” Mrs Gardiner mocked her. “I am sure it must be a mistake. No gentleman can have any private business with me.”
Elizabeth smiled nervously then hurried to the library. Only then did she realise that she never asked the stranger’s name.
Mr Gardiner received the information with reluctance and uneasiness. It was rare for a man to arrive in the midst of a snowstorm and ask to speak to one’s wife.
Mr Bennet—overcome by curiosity—followed them. At the drawing-room door, Mrs Gardiner waited, and she took her husband’s arm, growing worried as she saw the gentlemen’s stern expressions.
In the main hall, the stranger waited. He had removed only his hat. His clothes were wet, as was his grey hair—longer than was fashionable and tied in a queue. He looked at them intently and bowed, moving from one foot to the other in apparent distress.
He bowed clumsily in opposition to his stature and severe features. “Mrs Madeleine Gardiner?”
“Yes…and this is my husband, Mr Gardiner, and my brother Mr Bennet. Would you be so kind as to tell us your name and your business with me?”
He approached, and his face lit with an unexpected smile. His blue eyes suddenly narrowed and sparkled with mirth.
He bowed again and said warmly, “Madeleine, it is I, Gilbert.”
“Gilbert?” Mr Gardiner asked severely. “Why do you address my wife by her Christian name?”
“I apologize, Mr Gardiner. I am Gilbert Drake Wilson. I just returned to England a week ago, and I have done everything in my power to discover Madeleine’s whereabouts.
I have not seen her for a lifetime, and I could wait no longer.
Forgive my intrusion, I shall leave now and return whenever it is convenient for you. ”
“But who are you, sir? Wilson? Are you related to Madeleine?”
An answer never came as Mrs Gardiner fainted in the arms of her husband.
∞∞∞
The entire party in the drawing room was aghast as their unexpected guest related the story of his appearance from the unknown back to life—twenty-five years later.
Mr Gilbert Drake Wilson spoke calmly while his sister—barely recovered from the shocking surprise—held his hand and stared at him in awe. At his wife’s other side, Mr Gardiner was no less astounded.
“I believed you were gone…long gone…” Mrs Gardiner said. “We have had no letter—no word—in the last fifteen years. Nobody knew anything of you.”
“Forgive me…I could not…nor did I want to… My main concern was to protect you. I knew you were well—and that was all that mattered. We shall talk more of this…at another time. I do not wish to ruin your Christmas with the strange, sad stories of a wanderer.”
“You have made this the happiest Christmas, brother! You are so changed…so different… I barely remember your face, but you still look very handsome.”
“You were a child when I last saw you, and now you are such a beautiful lady, dear sister. You look so elegant—I would not have recognised you for the world…”
“You have been wounded…” she said, touching his scar with trembling fingers.
“Yes…but it was a long time ago. I am so happy I found you. You left Lambton after all. We have no more family in Derbyshire.”
“No. Only some friends and distant relatives. We left twenty years ago, just after Mother died. The money you sent helped us move to Town. Father opened a small shop, and the business prospered. Then I met Edward and—here is the rest. I cannot believe that I am not dreaming. Are you truly here?” she asked tearfully.
The man kissed her hand lovingly. “I am. This was the last wish I asked the Lord to grant me. For the past ten years, I was in no position to know anything about my friends or family. Then three years ago, although trapped on the other side of the world, I hired men to make inquiries and to search in my name. I discovered that our parents were long gone and some of my best friends had also passed away. I knew my sister was somewhere in the world, but nobody in Derbyshire knew of your fate. I was informed that you moved to Town, so I directed my searches there.”
Lydia jumped in with a question. “The other side of the world? Where would that be?”
The gentleman smiled kindly. “In many places, Miss Lydia. But most recently in India.”
“India? How fascinating!” Mary replied.
“True. Fascinating. And strange…and not always friendly. But fascinating indeed,” he agreed.
“I would love to know more of India,” Mary continued, encouraged by his amiability.
“Do you enjoy reading, Miss Mary?”
“Very much, sir.”
“Excellent—I have more books about India than I can count. You may choose whatever you wish.”
Mr Wilson then turned to his sister again.
“As soon as I had news of you, I decided to return to England and never leave again. I arrived in London two weeks ago, and I easily discovered your address. But your footman told me you were visiting family in Hertfordshire. I know I should have waited for your return, but I simply could not. Two more weeks after twenty-five years seemed painfully long. I had to come and see you—and tell you of my arrival. But I shall leave now and allow you to enjoy your dinner. I am renting a house in Town and shall await your return.”
“I am so happy that you came,” Mrs Gardiner whispered. “You could not possibly waste two more weeks of not being together. All these years I thought…”
Tears stopped her from speaking, and Mr Gardiner quickly took his wife’s hand and embraced her comfortingly.
“I have the most wonderful and loving husband and the happiest life one can hope for. I have four wonderful children and kind and loving relatives,” she said, looking around. “But all these years I still felt alone in the world. I know that sounds unfair to them, but it is the truth.”