Chapter 2 #3
“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.
“As I said, let us speak of something else. It is a gentleman’s privilege to like a lady or dance with her—or not. We cannot force a man’s will and must accept that we have far fewer options.”
“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 a refusal might be painful to accept for most men,” Mr Wilson added.
Elizabeth continued the debate. “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.”
“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 evident 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 something 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 her mother’s distressing tirade, she could not deny that he had been blunt and rather rude towards his wife.
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 had entered their lives.
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.