Page 86 of Bitterness of Spirit

What was the significance of the man’s identity that they would behave in such a strange and reprehensible manner?

He recollected everything Wilson told him, his relative’s responses during their previous conversation about Wilson, and all that was revealed that night.

Regardless of what might have been, Anne, Lady Matlock, the colonel, and the viscount were certainly ignorant on the subject, and the forced departure was disturbing to them too.

Mr Wilson, however, was well aware of his words’ impact on certain people. Of that, Darcy had no doubt. He even appeared to have chosen the moment of disclosure carefully in the presence of his most important guests. Along with his family, only Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth were in the audience at the time, and none of them seemed aware of any connection between Mr. Wilson and the Fitzwilliams. What was the truth behind their acquaintance?

Something of consequence had likely happened long ago, or else they would have taken everything in jest or simply dismissed his words. Certainly, they would not conceal it from the family.

Dawn came and Darcy still found no rest. He poured himself some coffee, tried to read with no success, and lay in his bed with his eyes closed for a while. The thoughts spinning in his head finally found some peace when Elizabeth’s enchanting image invaded his mind.

He was amazed at the significance that a glance, a smile, and the touch of innocent hands could evoke.

He had been in women’s company many times—even in an intimate way. Still, the feelings stirred inside him by anything related to Elizabeth had been frightening, new, and disturbingly powerful for months. As he had no hope of her returning his affection, the effect on him was even more powerful.

The sun rose, and as London’s streets became animated, Darcy’s restlessness grew.

He delayed for a while, avoiding another confrontation, but then his curiosity rejected the rules. He had to apply for the truth to the only man who could provide him with straight answers.

It was barely nine o’clock in the morning when Darcy knocked decidedly on Wilson’s door. A puzzled doorman opened it.

“I would like to speak to Mr. Wilson,” he declared.

“The master is not yet available. The entire family is still resting after the ball,” the servant explained politely but firmly.

“Can you ask him whether he will talk to me?”

“I would gladly do so, Mr. Darcy, but he specifically demanded not to be disturbed until he rings for us. I shall let him know you called, sir. Would you like to leave a note?”

“No. No note. I shall return later.”

“As you wish.”

Darcy turned to leave when a voice startled him. “I shall receive Mr. Darcy until Mr. Wilson is ready for visitors. Elizabeth stepped forward. He looked back at her, and their eyes met.

“Miss Bennet…” He bowed.

“Good morning, sir. Please, do come in. This is a fortunate coincidence as I wanted to speak to you too,” she said as she dismissed the servant. “I believe the library would be the perfect place for us to wait,” she invited as she led the way. “Mr. Wilson is an early morning person; I am sure he will awaken soon.”

“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I am glad you are up so early.” He followed her in silence, admiring her handsome figure. He was delighted by the notion of spending even a few minutes with her alone in the library. She said she wished to speak to him too, and he looked forward to it as eagerly as a schoolboy.

Elizabeth opened the library door then closed it behind them.

“I did not sleep much,” she finally disclosed.

“I did not sleep at all,” he confessed.

They shared a smile.

“Shall I ring for something?” she inquired.

“Not for me, thank you. I wish to speak to Mr. Wilson; I shall not stay long.”

She sat on the couch while he chose a chair. Being too close to her in a closed room was unwise.

“I hope you enjoyed the ball,” she said.

“Very much so. Until the end when Lady Catherine and Lord Matlock insisted we leave.”