Page 72 of Bitterness of Spirit

“Oh…” Anne looked at Elizabeth as though attempting to see the truth behind such an unexpected compliment.

“I admit I did,” Elizabeth declared. “Seeing you again is a pleasure I have eagerly anticipated and hope to repeat in the future.”

“Miss Elizabeth is too kind,” Anne answered. “I have heard quite a few things about you too, Mr. Wilson, from my cousins.”

“Well, I am at peace that they know too little about me to slander me. But I am curious to know what they said.” Mr. Wilson’s sharp and slightly improper statement disconcerted Anne as much as it amused the others.

Finally, she gathered her courage and continued. “I understand you spent most of your life abroad and fought in several wars. You sound like a war hero returned in glory.”

Wilson laughed, then stopped and bowed to her. “Miss de Bourgh, that is the kindest thing anyone has ever said about me, although it is completely untrue. I spent many years wandering the wide world, but I did nothing heroic, and I deserve no glory—none at all. However, I must repay your cousins in some way for their generous description that provided you with such an undeserved image of me.”

“Mr. Wilson is too modest,” Elizabeth intervened. “I am sure he has done many remarkable things of which he does not wish to speak.”

“Let us speak of something else, shall we?” Wilson concluded, and the conversation turned to other topics.

Anne was neither voluble nor self-confident, nor was she as restrained as at Rosings. She held both her cousins’ arms, as though seeking support and protection. She willingly entered into the conversation and even debated on occasion. An entire hour passed before Mrs. Jenkinson politely reminded them it was time for Miss de Bourgh to return home and rest.

Elizabeth exchanged few words with Darcy directly, but their involvement in the little walking scheme and occasional shared glances made her feel light-hearted.

He was caring and protective of Anne, but strangely, Elizabeth’s fears about a marriage forced by Lady Catherine vanished. There was nothing specific—nothing she could indicate or mention—but his entire being somehow told her he was still there for her.

Once they returned home, Jane and Bingley separated in haste—he towards the library and she to her chamber.

Elizabeth was astonished for a moment. She looked at Mr. Wilson, who only shrugged, so she followed her sister. Inside their chamber, Jane was at the window, sobbing. Elizabeth quickly embraced her without saying anything. Jane’s tears of joy were so different from those of the sorrow she had struggled to hide for so many months.

“Dear Lizzy, he proposed! Can you believe it? He said he must take the first opportunity to propose and that, if I was not decided, he was willing to wait as long as I needed. But he said he did not want to delay a single moment in declaring his love for me. Oh, Lizzy, I was so happy that I could sing and cry, but I had to remain calm and listen to his whispers as we were in the middle of the park. And I barely heard some of his words, but he proposed! I accepted—that was all I could say, and now he has gone to speak to Papa. How fortunate that Papa is here, is it not? Oh dear Lord, how shall I bear so much happiness? Lizzy, my heart will burst into pieces. Have you ever felt that?”

The tears fell freely, washing Jane’s face that glowed with bliss. Elizabeth wiped her face with a handkerchief then caressed her hair and took her to sit on the bed.

“My dearest, your joy is so great that it fills my heart too. You deserve it, and Bingley is the luckiest man alive to be the recipient of your affection. What a blessed day this had been. And what a decided man Mr. Bingley became after being so severely rebuked by Mr. Wilson,” Elizabeth said teasingly, both laughing while they cried.

“He has loved me all this time, Lizzy. He said he left because he was not sure of my affection. It might have been my fault that I did not let him see it more clearly.”

“Jane, never say that again. You were the only one faultless in that unhappy decision. The blame belongs to him and to others, but let us forget that forever. Who would benefit from discussing a matter that is best buried? So, when do you think you will marry?”

Jane’s mind immediately turned to the more pleasant subject. “When? Oh, Lizzy, how can I know that? He just proposed, and he must speak to Papa…and then perhaps we shall talk more. If Papa gives us his blessing, we shall be engaged. Then we can speak privately, can we not? Oh dear, how happy Mama will be! Poor dear, she was so distressed. Just think of the happiness this will bring to her and to my entire family.”

“Jane—think of your own happiness for now! We shall all dance and sing for joy around you, but your felicity is what matters. And Mr. Bingley’s of course since he had the good luck to be accepted by the most beautiful woman in Town. I am certain you could have received a marriage proposal from an earl if you waited a little longer,” Elizabeth teased her again.

Jane stared at her with such an appalled expression that Elizabeth laughed even harder.

“Lizzy!” Jane scolded her before allowing herself to be infected by her sister’s good humour.

When Jane’s tears had dried, Elizabeth’s distress finally ceased. All the fears and concerns about her sister’s future had ended on the green paths of Hyde Park amid the scent of flowers. That Darcy knew of the proposal and perhaps even approved it, she had little doubt. Of Bingley’s sisters, she thought little and cared even less.

Almost as strong as the joy the news brought was the certainty that this marriage would also provide countless opportunities to be in Darcy’s presence. She had considered that possibility before, but it had finally become fact.

Mr. Bennet gladly gave his blessing, and in the afternoon, the entire family was informed of the sudden—although not unexpected—engagement. Cries of joy, chatting, the note sent to Mrs. Bennet, plans for the future, and speculation about the reaction from the people of Meryton turned the house into a din and banished the men of the house to the library.

Bingley went home to change but soon returned for dinner and did not leave his betrothed’s side the entire evening.

“Well, what a fortunate turn of events,” Mr. Wilson declared. “The ball I am giving could easily be considered the celebration of your engagement. If one needed a reason for it, this is the best that I could have.

Lydia and Kitty demanded to be present due to the new meaning of the event, but Mr. Bennet remained unmoved. The only consolation he could offer his youngest daughter was Bingley’s promise that he planned to host another ball at Netherfield soon.

The subject of the ball slowly took on a heavier importance for Elizabeth as she remembered the last one hosted by Mr. Bingley. After that, other recollections filled her mind, now free from any concern about Jane. She wondered about the events of Darcy’s day and with whom he had dinner.

Then her eyes fell upon Mr. Wilson. Without his presence to keep her company during the walk, Mr. Bingley would probably not have had the chance to propose. He would have been forced to wait until Lord knows when. So that joyful evening was due to Mr. Bingley as well as Mr. Wilson, she though, amused by fate’s frequent role in their hopes.