Page 13 of Her Affections and Wishes

Lady Metcalfe and her daughter had seen the maid enter and paid her no further mind. They rose to leave.

“You had better be able to manage this,” Lady Metcalfe said to her daughter as they walked away. “You need a husband by summer.”

“I can have any man I want, and I have chosen Mr Darcy.”

“And what if you cannot secure him?”

They muttered indistinctly to themselves, but Elizabeth heard Darcy’s name, and it made her angry. She wanted better for Darcy than Julia Metcalfe. He deserved someone who wanted him for his own sake, not for his fortune or from some frantic need to marry first of all her sisters.

She wanted him to be happy with his chosen partner, but a small part of her heart wondered if, in spite of everything, that person could still be her. Shaking her head at her silliness, Elizabeth entered the breakfast room. She could not be secure of even his friendship after how she rebuked him.

The others were already at the table in the morning room, yet another ornate room with rococo wood-panelled walls, sculptures, and gilt everything. Mrs Tessier, who was bedecked with gems and matched her room, greeted them warmly.

Everyone said a general good morning to the group, but Darcy said to her, as she entered, “How do you do, Miss Bennet? I hear from Bingley that he dined at Longbourn two nights ago.”

She smiled to hear him speak favourably of the likely match between her sister and his friend. Maybe she would sit next to him to show that she had no ill will toward him. “He has become quite the fixture at my mother’s table.”

As she approached him, Julia rushed forward to take the open seat right beside Darcy. He looked askance at Julia when she leant toward him with an alluring smile, and gave her a reserved greeting. Darcy raised his eyes to her, and Elizabeth shared a bemused look with him over Julia’s head as Elizabeth went round the table to sit across from him instead.

“Are you weary from dancing last evening, Mr Darcy? I noticed you danced every set,” Julia said after she filled her plate.

“I am not tired. I went for a ride this morning with Mr Travers.”

“Is that where you went?” murmured Lady Metcalfe as an aside to Mr Travers. “I had thought to ride with you.”

“Did you? I did not know. Another time.” Mr Travers did not look up from his racing circular. For such old friends, he had little interest in what she said. “Mr Darcy rode early with me to some of the innyards to look at the horses stabled here for the week. I intend to win back my losses from the Chester race meeting.”

“Perhaps tomorrow, then?”

He nodded, turning the page and not lifting his eyes.

Lady Metcalfe watched him expectantly, but Mr Travers was intent on the sportsman magazine. To the rest of the table she said, “Travers and I have been friends a long time and once rode every fine morning when we were young. We frequently meet at Epsom, but Ascot and Newmarket are favourites as well.”

Julia scowled at her mother, then turned to Darcy. “Was it a pleasant, fresh-feeling morning?”

Darcy did not look up from his tea. “Yes.”

“I have a good heart for riding myself.”

His only answer was a nod, but Sir John leant toward her and said, “I was sure you would ride well. You have the make for it.”

Julia preened at this forward compliment on her figure, but she turned back to Darcy. “Have you the energy to walk to Epsom? I should like to see the town before it is crowded tomorrow when the races begin.”

“It will already be crowded,” said Mrs Tessier. “People have been arriving for days, but you are right. There will be thousands more when the Derby and the Oaks are run Thursday and Friday.”

Julia ignored her and awaited Darcy’s answer.

“I am at the liberty of my hosts,” he said, gesturing toward the end of the table where Mrs Tessier sat with her son. The widow insisted the young people walk to the town after breakfast, but her son seemed to wish to get out of escorting them. Henry only relented when Darcy suggested he honour his mother’s wishes.

And all the while Julia pressed Darcy to talk with her whilst ignoring the food on her plate.

Elizabeth was not jealous of Julia, because Darcy showed her as much attention as he had shown Miss de Bourgh or Miss Bingley. But she felt a sinking, piercing feeling in her heart to see Julia pursue him. He was more likely to be won by debate than by flattery. No cunning would work, no gratuitous agreement, no arts and allurements. A woman would have to appeal to Darcy’s mind, although a full, rounded figure like Julia’s would not hurt.

Someone playful and warm might appeal to Darcy more than mere deference and attention.

As she watched him ignore Julia and try to eat his breakfast in peace, Elizabeth wished she could shield him from such attentions. Did she want Darcy for herself, or did she just not want a woman like Julia to have him? As the group readied for the short walk to Epsom, Elizabeth reminded herself it did not matter. It was too late to have Darcy.

She had slighted a good man in favour of a selfish and cruel one.