Page 8 of Bitterness of Spirit

Mr. Wilson paled slightly; then he bowed again. “You are right of course. I was thoughtless and assuming. My manners are far from proper yet. It is time for me to leave.”

“I believe it is time for us all to have dinner,” Mr. Bennet intervened. “Mr. Wilson, please join us if you are not otherwise engaged. You should not even consider leaving before Christmas unless you are expected elsewhere.”

The gentleman hesitated and looked at his sister who was still holding his hand, then at Mr. Gardiner, who allowed a smile to dissipate the awkwardness.

“The children will be happy to meet you tomorrow, Wilson. And my sister Bennet is well known for her excellent dinner arrangements. If you have no other fixed plans, I would advise you not to lose the opportunity of having the best dinner you will find in the county.”

The guest bowed again to his hosts, his face losing its severity. “No plans can entice me to leave if I know I am welcome. I thank you for the invitation, and I confess I am starving.”

“Lord, I am so hungry too!” Lydia cried. Her voice was a sign for everyone to move to the dining room in a great hurry.

***

Hours passed, and the conversation became more animated, but the party did not notice the time. It was later than a normal family dinner, but nobody felt tired or willing to retire. Mr. Wilson’s aloofness turned into amiability, and he proved to be a master of conversation. He showed a willingness to adapt to their family and trusted them enough to speak of his tormenting past. The Bennets were less voluble than usual, and Mrs. Bennet—of all people—had little to say. Instead, all paid close attention to the stories shared by their unexpected guest.

Mr. Wilson was only half-brother to Mrs. Gardiner. Mr. Wilson’s mother passed away when he was thirteen years old. For a long while in the care of a father who knew little of raising a boy of a young age, he struggled until, at the age of eighteen, his father married for the second time. A year later, his sister Madeleine was born and, despite the difference in their ages, the two grew very close.

“I wondered so many times why you left…” Mrs. Gardiner inquired.

“Mostly from foolishness…from lack of wisdom and little understanding of the world around me. I thought it would be better if I were away; and then, when I would have liked to return, it proved to be more difficult than I imagined.”

While Elizabeth listened with great interest and watched the gentleman’s face with genuine care, she observed that he talked much but said little. His words, although light and effortless, were carefully chosen. The shadow that fell over his countenance from time to time gave proof that he was hiding dark secrets he would not allow to escape.

However, Mr. Wilson’s overall presence was lively and pleasant. He appeared willing to please everyone, was polite and friendly, praised the food and drink, and left no question unanswered.

The harsh start between him and Mr. Gardiner was quickly dismissed, and the two men shared their attention to the lady they both adored.

Mrs. Gardiner hardly took her eyes away from her brother, still incredulous that the extraordinary happenstance was real. Elizabeth and Jane watched their guest with a curiosity kept under good regulation—unlike Lydia, Kitty, and Mary, who stared at him constantly with eyes and mouths open wide.

Mr. Bennet then spoke. “Sir, you must forgive us if we look rather dumbfounded; believe me, we are usually more witty and articulate. We are still astonished to have you here, which must explain our unusual silence. And perhaps you should be grateful for it; if you stay with us a little longer, you will soon crave quiet and solitude.”

Mr. Wilson laughed. “Your wit is beyond doubt, Mr. Bennet—as is your generosity in allowing a stranger into your home a day before Christmas. As for quiet and solitude—I am tired of it. I shall not miss it anytime soon.”

“Then, you are in the right place, sir. As for generosity, do not even mention it. You are a most welcome addition to our party, I assure you. But a strange one, I admit. We have heard many things about you from our dear sister Madeleine, but we never imagined you as a real, living person.”

“We did not know anything about you,” Lydia intervened. “Aunt Madeleine mostly speaks to Lizzy and Jane. We are rarely told secrets! So you were gone for five and twenty years? And where did you get that scar? It looks rather frightening.”

“Lydia! You cannot ask such rude questions!” Jane attempted to discipline her young sister.

But their guest smiled and responded calmly. “Miss Bennet, I truly appreciate your kind concern, but please do not feel the need to restrain your sister’s curiosity. I shall gladly answer any questions if possible. If not, I shall just tell you so. As you will quickly discover, I am a rather outspoken man, so I apologise in advance for any impropriety.”

“Please do not apologise, Mr. Wilson. We shall surely say many inappropriate things too. Besides, some of us are also very outspoken, so we should be equal in this,” Elizabeth said in jest.

“I am glad to hear that, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Wilson answered with equal amusement. “Now, to return to Miss Lydia’s question, I have carried this scar for about ten years. I have it from a battle. I was hurt quite badly; the scar is only the obvious sign of harm—and the most disturbing, of course. But it looks worse than it actually feels.”

“You were in the army?” Mr. Gardiner inquired this time.

“Yes; I should better say I was also in the army as I earned my living in many ways. After I left Derbyshire, I could not settle for a long time. I spend years at sea, sailing towards America then around the world to India. I saw places I did not know existed. I joined the army and served in several regiments. I was wounded more than once but recovered each time. But it seems I have served the King better and more successfully since I retired and became engaged in business. The services I provided in trade were more appreciated than the ones in the army.”

Mrs. Gardiner inquired in a state of great agitation, “Have your wounds healed? Are you still in pain? How did this happen? Are you fully recovered now? You have travelled all the way from India; you must be exhausted. Oh dear, I forgot to ask: Where do you reside in London?”

He kissed her hand again. “Your worry is much appreciated but unnecessary, I assure you. I am as well as any man of almost fifty can be. I am renting a house in London, but I am considering buying one. And perhaps another one here around Meryton. The little I saw of it, this is a lovely county. And it would be lovely to keep the family together, would you not agree?”

“Yes, I would,” Mrs. Gardiner answered hesitantly. “But—”

“You want to buy a house in London and one in Meryton?” Mrs. Bennet inquired bluntly, staring at him in astonishment.

“Indeed. And perhaps an estate in Derbyshire if I can find something to my liking.”