Page 12 of Her Affections and Wishes

She was curious about this Darcy who recognised his faults and tried to change them, who spent the assembly asking every woman sitting down to dance.

One of the doors opened, and Lady Metcalfe and Julia entered. Elizabeth had knocked on Julia’s door this morning, but was told by her lady that she was still abed. Apparently, rising before breakfast was too much effort for such a grand woman on the hunt for a husband.

“There you are, Miss Bennet,” said Lady Metcalfe. “You can settle a dispute between us before breakfast on a matter of wealth versus rank.”

“I am not sure I am qualified to speak in regard to either, but I will share my opinion.”

“I do not need anyone’s opinion,” said Julia, who crossed her arms. “I have decided.”

“Perhaps Miss Bennet has seen enough of him to know if you have a reasonable chance.” Turning to Elizabeth, Lady Metcalfe said, “How fixed would you say the engagement is between Miss de Bourgh and Mr Darcy?”

Elizabeth had trouble finding her voice, but Julia cried, “Why would he choose that sickly, pale creature when he could have this?” She gestured along the length of her body. “The Fitzwilliam family fortunes would not be enough to make a man able to draw breath tie himself to dull Anne de Bourgh.”

Lady Metcalfe ignored this rude speech and stared at her, and Elizabeth managed to say, “I, I thought you were set on Sir John. Do you mean to pursue Mr Darcy instead?”

“Of course. He has ten thousand a year.”

“And I say Sir John has a title, my dear Julia. I caught a baronet. I would hope at least as well for you.”

“Caught?” Julia threw her mother a side-eye. “Your marriage was arranged, and to a distant cousin. From how the story was told, you had no choice, either.”

Lady Metcalfe glared. “Regardless, Mr Darcy is promised to another.”

Julia flicked her hand. “Lady Catherine wants them to marry, but what does he want? He has not offered, and he is nearly thirty. Miss Bennet, you were there amongst just the family. What did you observe?”

How could she admit the only person Darcy had lately been thinking of marrying was her? But she also could not lie. “He did not act like a man engaged. I could not discern any symptom of love on either side.”

“There, Mamma,” cried Julia. “There is no reason not to settle on Mr Darcy instead.”

Lady Metcalfe frowned. “Sir John seems easier to catch, more inclined to have a liaison. Darcy seems clever and a far more serious man.”

Elizabeth began to fear both women would sanction something more than flirtation to secure Darcy. They could not mean for Julia to entice him into bed and then extort a proposal, could they? She may have misjudged Darcy, but he would never enter into a dalliance or allow himself to be entangled.

“What about Sir John or Henry?” she asked hurriedly. “Why fix on a man you know is wanted by all his family to marry elsewhere?”

“Henry is too young, and Sir John only has two thousand a year,” said Julia. “Mr Darcy has ten thousand, and furthermore he is handsome.”

“And Mr Travers? He will be a baron, and his appearance was not unpleasing.”

Julia looked as though her stomach turned over. “He is an absolute old bachelor.”

“Well, he is not too old,” said Lady Metcalfe, a little defensively, perhaps since they were of the same age.

Her daughter threw up her hands. “He is too blond. I need a dark-haired man, and a rich one. I would prefer rich to titled.”

Julia’s thoughts and feelings had all the depth of a puddle. Unless she and her mother were making a joke of Julia’s marriage intentions—but that was equally distressing. There was nothing so important as the character of the person you tied your life to. And that brought to mind how Darcy had thought enough of her to want to spend the rest of his life with her.

Darcy’s character and manners were not as disagreeable to her as they were before Hunsford. But even if he was improved, even if he had an anxiety to please, and even though she had unfairly judged him, did it matter? No sensible man would offer his hand again to the woman who spurned him.

“Ladies?” Elizabeth started in her seat. “Mrs Tessier says breakfast will be served in the morning room.”

She spun round to see a maid closing a hidden door she had not known was there. The door was hung with a matching set of shelves, disguising the door to appear to be another bookcase. The library was opulently fitted up, with wall panels elaborately ornamented with gold designs. Even the bookcases were richly gilt and ornamented, and so was the surface of the door.

“I did not know there was a jib-door behind me,” Elizabeth said, with a hand pressed against her chest and an embarrassed laugh.

“There is a staircase behind it that leads to a servants’ corridor,” said the maid before going out through another door.

The architect must not have wanted to interrupt the symmetry of the library by spoiling the pleasing line of the wall with a traditional door. Though it was likely the original builders did not want the servants in evidence more than necessary.