Page 1 of Her Affections and Wishes

Chapter One

If there was anything worse than suffering an insulting proposal and realising how dreadful your judgment had been, then surely it must be enduring those feelings under the watchful eye of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Elizabeth Bennet had not wanted to dine at Rosings so soon after her ladyship’s nephews had left, but Mr Collins would not hear of her missing another evening. She could not admit that, had she answered Fitzwilliam Darcy differently, she would have been presented to Mr Collins’s esteemed patroness as her future niece.

She sighed to herself over all she and Darcy had said the other night. Thank goodness he left Kent, but how blind she had been. Not that she regretted refusing Darcy’s proposal, but his letter had changed everything.

She was close to knowing most of its passages by heart.

The style of Darcy’s address still insulted her, but when she considered how unjustly she had upbraided him, that anger turned toward herself. She had not appreciated it at the time, but his words, his restless manner, and his pale face showed he had been genuinely attached to her. She did not approve of his pride, but his disappointed feelings were now an object of her compassion.

“They were excessively sorry to go,” said Lady Catherine of her nephews when they were in the drawing room after dinner. “The dear colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely; more, I think, than last year. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”

Elizabeth winced. Darcy’s feelings were acute. He may be proud with repulsive manners, but she had refused him and championed the man who nearly ruined his sister. Was it any wonder his feelings were in turmoil? Her own were a muddle, and she had not been disappointed in love like he had.

“I am sure,” said Mr Collins with an unctuous smile at Miss de Bourgh, “that Mr Darcy is attached to far more than just Rosings.”

Had she broken his heart? That was a crushing thought. Although proud, he was a good person after all, whereas Wickham was unworthy of every kindness she had shown him.

“Miss Bennet, you have been sighing all evening,” observed Lady Catherine.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to refute this accurate statement, but her ladyship went on. “You must not like to go home so soon.”

It was better to agree to that than admit she had been proposed to by the man Lady Catherine expected to marry her daughter.

A long discussion then passed about Elizabeth’s plans to go to London next Saturday with Maria Lucas to reunite with Jane and return to Longbourn.

“I wonder at your wanting to return home, especially when Mrs Collins would be glad to keep you longer,” Lady Catherine said. “Are you instead hoping to find yourself a husband whilst in town?”

The struggle to keep her patience deepened. She caught the eye of her friend Charlotte Collins and chose not to argue with Lady Catherine. Any rudeness from her would make Charlotte’s life more difficult. “I assure you, Maria and I are returning home after a brief stay in London. We will do nothing more than a little shopping. Perhaps one night at the theatre.”

“Is that all? You must do more to mix with the world. A poor—a young woman like you with no connexions is not likely to marry a man of any consequence. You will need my help, I suspect.”

Elizabeth blinked and asked, fearing the answer, “Help with what, madam?”

“I am always disposed to help a young person, whether it be employment or education or even a spouse. You will never meet a proper gentleman with a mother who neglected your education and a father who will not take you to town. I will do what I must to introduce you to a wider circle.”

“You are too kind, but⁠—”

“Lady Metcalfe and her eldest daughter will attend the Epsom races and stay with our friend, Mrs Tessier, at Woodcote Park.” She paused as though these names were significant. “Lady Metcalfe’s son, Sir Edward, is very young, and she has three older daughters. She has decided the time has come for Miss Metcalfe to find a husband. She will find one at the races. Mrs Tessier always has friends about her during race week; she has a son your age, or a little younger. There are certain to be young men there for the races who would be happy with a girl such as you.”

The last thing she wanted was to be tossed amongst strangers who did not want her with them. “I could not leave Maria. We are returning home next Saturday, and I cannot inconvenience my uncle and father a second time.”

“Miss Lucas could go with you to Woodcote, I suppose, and then the arrangements need only be made once.” Elizabeth looked at Maria to insist with her eyes that she refuse, but Maria’s pale face and uncontrolled shakes answered for her.

Lady Catherine took in Maria with a grimace that only made her tremblings worse. “Perhaps Miss Lucas is too young for such an engagement, but you, with four sisters out, need my help.”

“You are all kindness, madam, but we must abide by our original plan. Besides, your friend Lady Metcalfe may not be inclined to have another young lady with her if she wishes to see her own daughter wed.”

For Charlotte’s sake, she kept an even temper and maintained her travel plans with Maria could not be changed without inconveniencing others. The conversation dragged on, and every mention Lady Catherine made of Elizabeth needing a husband reminded her she had refused Darcy’s offer to be his wife.

Lady Catherine finally seemed resigned. “I suppose it is proper to first ask Lady Metcalfe if she will take you, and then arrangements for your return home can be made. Although, if you are successful in securing an engagement, then your chosen suitor and his family could return you home to speak to your father.”

Since Elizabeth doubted Lady Metcalfe would agree or that anyone could get a proposal during the four days of races at Epsom Downs, she returned to the parsonage certain she would leave Rosings a week from tomorrow as planned.

Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent there, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, Lady Metcalfe was also invited. Elizabeth had assumed she would only have to listen to Lady Catherine talk whilst they played cards, but foreboding filled her.

Lady Metcalfe was a stately woman who must have once had every young male head turned her way and still expected it to happen. Her hair was still blonde with no streaks of grey, and she wore a gown Elizabeth thought rather daring for a widow with a single daughter.