Page 93 of Bitterness of Spirit

Elizabeth paled with anger. She rose and stepped aside. “That was a cruel and callousness statement. And only partially true—as with most of the things you told us, Mr. Wilson! You chanced upon the possession of a delicate secret, and you now use it against me?”

“No…NO—I apologize! Forgive me, I only meant that Darcy is generous enough to overcome others’ unfair behaviour towards him when he feels they deserve it. I know he cares for you, and I am glad to see you are not indifferent to him either.”

“Do not change the subject, sir, nor attempt to disguise the meaning of your words. I am not generous, I assure you. And Mr. Darcy’s affection for me—if real—might not be powerful enough to overcome his grief and pain at being trapped into such a scheme by my uncle. I am sure he has had enough of our family, and I wonder whether we shall ever see him again!”

She spoke with anger and pain, fearing with each word that she might be right.

“I am sure that will not happen. Besides, you spent a long while alone in a small, dark room. There can hardly be a more compromising situation. You may demand that he marry you—in fact, I could do that immediately. I know his affection for you is strong, and since you now hold him in high esteem, it would be—”

Elizabeth took another step back, staring at him with ire and disbelief.

“Sir, how can you even think such a thing? You have used Mr. Darcy for your scheme, threatened his family with cruel revenge, and now you want to force him into marriage based on a false scandal? That is your idea of making wrongs right—to impose your will over other people to your satisfaction? Shall I prefer Lady Catherine since you are no better? I so wish to meet the remarkable man who saved Mr. Darcy’s life and gained his friendship and loyalty—that honest heart that fell in love with an unworthy woman twenty-five years ago and wished to dedicate his future to her? What happened to him? Why did you let him die?” She spoke so furiously that she barely recognised her own voice. Tears fell upon her cheeks, and she held the man’s troubled gaze for a moment before she turned her back and hurried to the door.

“Elizabeth, wait! I did not mean…”

“That is another half-truth, sir. You meant it all; every word and every gesture were in earnest. My gratitude towards you and the respectful affection I carry for you will not silence me. Since you want to keep this story secret, you must bear my reproach. If Aunt Madeline knew, I am sure she would support me. Consider your revenge carefully, Mr. Wilson, and pay attention to those you will harm undeservedly!”

Elizabeth walked through the hall, which only a night before was shining with elegant floral arrangements. Now, the flowers were wilting, their joy turned into sadness. The whole world seemed to have changed in less than a day, and Elizabeth’s heart became heavy with grief. She searched for an empty room in which to be alone and release the pain she carried.

***

When Darcy left the Wilson house, his uncle and aunt were waiting in the carriage. He avoided them and walked in haste, eager to find peace in the solitude of his home. He needed calm—to think, to accept, and to analyse.

Yet, he had no such luck as they followed him into the library. He poured himself another drink but offered them nothing.

“Darcy, I understand your astonishment,” the earl began. “Terrible things were said, and I can only imagine how you must have felt.”

“You must not breathe a word of what you have heard,” Lady Catherine insisted. “Besides, most of what you heard were despicable lies!”

“Which of them were lies, Aunt?” Darcy asked coldly.

Lady Catherine was disconcerted by the question. “Many of them. We should forget everything we heard and resume our usual lives. Anne and I shall return to Rosings tomorrow.”

“I am not sure that Anne wishes to return,” Darcy replied. “Richard and I talked with her, and she seemed willing to stay in Town for some time.”

“Anne does not know her own mind. It would be much better for her to be home.”

Darcy could hardly control his anger. “Anne knows her mind quite well. As she is of age, she may do whatever she pleases. Besides, she is the heiress of Rosings and several other properties.”

Lady Catherine paled with fury. “What are you talking about? What do you imply? Besides, Anne is not your concern until you finally decide to comply with your duty and marry her as you should have years ago.”

Darcy put his glass down and threw his relatives a sharp glare. “Aunt Catherine, Anne is my concern because I care deeply for her. I had expected, after today’s events, that you would cease imposing your will as to who will marry whom. Neither Anne nor I want to enter into the ridiculous arrangement that you pretend belonged to you and my mother. As we all learned today, many things you told us about your past should be taken cautiously.”

“How dare you? You ungrateful child! How dare you speak to me in such a manner? Brother, did you hear him? This is outrageous!”

Lady Catherine almost suffocated in her fury, and she paced the room frantically.

“Let us all calm ourselves. Catherine, sit down. Darcy, let us have some tea or coffee. It is too early for so much brandy.”

Darcy said nothing, only rang for the footman.

“You must realise that everything that happened must be kept secret. The situation is delicate and dangerous. We must protect the family. Your aunt and cousins must never learn of this situation. I am counting on your honour and wisdom, Darcy. May I?”

Darcy glared at him. “It is not my secrecy that should concern you.”

“Yes, I know. We must do something about Wilson.”

“Why not hire someone to kill him?” Darcy offered in jest.