Chapter 15
Elizabeth prepared herself for the evening with eagerness and joy, her heart light and spirited. She looked forward to it without daring to consider the reason for her excitement.
She and Jane arranged each other’s hair and checked their gowns to be perfectly fitted. For both, the evening had an importance they were not brave enough to admit, but it weighed on them heavily. They wished and hoped for everything to be perfect but counted the hours restlessly.
“Lizzy, I was wondering…please do not judge me or consider me ungrateful but…I feel Mr Wilson finds great pleasure in sometimes tormenting others with little concern for propriety or their feelings. Or perhaps he enjoys a little too much finding amusement at the expense of others. Am I wrong?”
“You are not wrong, dearest. He does, indeed. And once he seeks retribution, he cannot be stopped nor tempered.”
“Yes. I felt pity for Mr Wickham earlier today. To be so exposed in front of all our family was very harsh. Perhaps such a rebuke would have been better addressed privately.”
“Jane, it was Mr Wickham’s fault. He was impertinent, and Mr Wilson repaid it as the moment required.”
“Yes, but…”
“Come, my dear, let us finish dressing. We should be grateful that Mr Wilson is part of our family and seems quite fond of us. Fortunately, we are in no danger.” She laughed, though she was no less worried and distressed than her sister.
She knew not what to expect from that evening.
Her only reason for tranquillity was Mr Wilson’s apparent good opinion of Darcy and his obvious willingness to extend their acquaintance.
Hopefully, their host would remain steady to that purpose and act accordingly.
“Lizzy, please do not jest about this. I am a trifle worried about tonight. I hope Mr Bingley enjoys his time with us. And Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, of course,” she added, flustered.
“Have no concern, dearest. Mr Wilson already addressed Mr Bingley with the most severe reproach, and he bore it reasonably well. It cannot be worse.”
“Lizzy, stop laughing at me,” Jane pleaded with a tearful smile.
Elizabeth placed a quick kiss on her sister’s cheek. “I am not laughing at you, dearest.”
I am laughing at myself, she silently added as she took Jane’s arm and bravely stepped towards the moment she would meet Darcy again.
∞∞∞
Darcy stared at his reflection in the mirror, suddenly wondering whether the dark green coat was the most flattering for him.
Such musings astonished him. He could not recollect ever showing such preoccupation with his attire. He was always careful with his appearance, of course, as a duty to his name and his position, but he never considered what flattered or suited him best.
Even in Hertfordshire and Kent, his apparel was not a consideration. He never attempted to look his best in front of Elizabeth in Hertfordshire because his main concern was to conceal his admiration for her—nor in Kent because he was certain she already recognized and returned his feelings.
The result had been disastrous in both cases, and he could not afford another failure. He was still not certain how much he dared to hope or desire from this dinner, but he would certainly do everything in his power to make the best of it, including his appearance.
“Sir, Mr Bingley is here,” a servant announced.
“I shall be downstairs in a moment.” He needed a little more time for himself.
Elizabeth was not opposed to seeing him again—of that, he was certain.
She must have read his letter and given it credit since her behaviour towards him had changed.
She was more restrained and did not smile at him—nor did she tease him—and she mostly avoided his eyes.
But her rare glances showed interest in him of a different sort.
And she took his side when Wilson scolded Bingley and he tried to protect him.
So he had no reason to fear a cold reception. He knew she approved the dinner invitation; he had seen as much in her expression.
Somehow, the wound in his soul—less than a fortnight old—no longer bled.
The pain of her severe rejection and harsh accusations was slowly healing.
Meeting her was the best palliation for his sorrow.
He had intended never to lay eyes on her again and planned to put as much distance between them as possible.
But that would have been a terrible mistake—another one.
He thanked the fates for bringing Elizabeth into his path once more and offering him time to remedy his grave error.
Eventually, he left his apartment to meet Bingley in the drawing room. They awaited the colonel’s arrival so they could all travel together.
“Bingley, you have arrived early.”
“Yes, but only me. We must wait for Louisa and Hurst—and Caroline.”
“And for Richard.”
“Really? The colonel is coming too?”
“Yes. We met Mr Wilson, with Mr Gardiner and Mr Bennet, at Boodle’s Club yesterday afternoon. Mr Wilson invited Richard.”
“Mr Bennet is in Town?”
“He arrived with his youngest daughters—all three of them—the same day when we met in the park.”
“Oh, I see. Darcy, do you think he is upset with me?”
“I cannot be certain, but he did not mention anything of the kind.”
“I see… So, the colonel is coming too. Good. I am glad to have one more person on my side. Regardless of Mr Bennet’s feelings, I fear Mr Wilson positively hates me. I am a little worried about what he might say,” Bingley confessed.
Darcy laughed. “He does not hate you, Bingley. If anyone is in danger of being hated, that would be me.”
“Well, he does have an interesting way of showing his disapproval. He scolded me quite harshly—but not undeservedly, I admit.”
“Mr Wilson is a peculiar gentleman; I cannot deny that. But I am sure you will be most welcome tonight.”
“I hope so… Miss Bennet looked remarkably well; do you not agree? She was a little pale and thinner than last autumn, but she is exceptionally beautiful.”
“I do agree. So your sisters agreed to join you?”
“They did. I was surprised too, and I somehow regret that I shared the invitation with them. They can be rather unfriendly at times. I hope that will not be the case. I believe they are curious to see Mr Wilson and his house. They did not believe me when I told them he rented a house in Park Lane since it contradicts their knowledge about Miss Bennet’s uncle living near Cheapside. ”
“Yes, that must be a change: Miss Bennet staying in London in a more fashionable area than they are. Does life not have a special sense of humour?” Darcy spoke more to himself than to Bingley.
“I am very nervous about this dinner. But I look forward to it. I hope I have a chance to speak a few words privately with Miss Bennet,” Bingley confessed.
As do I, Darcy silently responded. As do I…
Half an hour before the established time, the Bingley sisters in their carriage and the colonel in his arrived at Darcy House. They did not enter but travelled together towards their destination.
Bingley’s anxiety did not diminish, and Darcy’s slowly increased. Minute by minute, their excitement and distress at seeing a certain lady grew along with their hopes of a good outcome and their fears that such hopes might be shattered by midnight.
∞∞∞
Long before dinnertime, the family gathered in the drawing room. Lydia and Kitty, after a harsh conversation with their father, received permission to attend.
Mr Wilson had surprising news for the ladies. “Tomorrow, a modiste will come after breakfast. You should all order several dresses. We shall attend opera and theatre performances—and perhaps a few balls too.”
“A modiste? Tomorrow? You did not tell me about that until now, brother,” Mrs Gardiner replied.
“I apologize, my dear. You will take care of everything, I trust. I wish my sister and my nieces to be among the most elegant in Town this Season.”
“All of us? Including me and Kitty and Mary?” Lydia asked.
“Of course, Miss Lydia,” the gentleman replied, and the girls cried with joy.
“But Mr Wilson, this is not…” Jane attempted to interfere.
“Sir, if my daughters need new gowns, I shall pay for everything,” Mr Bennet intervened. “I shall not have it any other way. I trust my sister Gardiner is wise enough to settle things in a reasonable manner.”
Mr Wilson quickly dismissed the entire discussion.
“I am sure they do not need new gowns, but this is something that gives me great pleasure to do for my family. Please indulge me. Take it as a poor attempt to compensate for the many Seasons I was away. I am doing it more for me than for you. Let us not debate the matter, I beg you.”
His plea seemed so sincere that, despite the realization of the great expense he intended to assume and their uneasiness attached to it, all assented to Mr Wilson’s request. Since he had made up his mind, arguing would only ruin everyone’s dispositions.
It was impossible to guess his intentions, and his bestowal of such generosity made it difficult for Elizabeth to contradict him.
“Well, what can I say, Wilson? If you put it that way, I cannot argue with you. It seems you have moved from purchasing houses to purchasing gowns. At least this will be far less expensive,” Mr Bennet mocked him, and his host laughed heartily.
“Well, I am not done with the houses either, but for now, gowns are more important,” he admitted.
“I have given up trying to understand you,” Mr Bennet added. “You are a fine fellow but a rather strange one. However, you have excellent taste in libraries.”
“As I said, my dear Mr Bennet, I have no stake in this library or this house. I only had the money to rent it as it was, books included; it seems the heiress did not value them as much as the late owner did.”
“Well, that is lucky for me,” Mr Bennet concluded.
Their guests’ arrival at the expected time ended the conversation. Mr Wilson, together with his sister, welcomed them, and another round of introductions was performed.