Page 14 of Her Affections and Wishes

“You did not say whether you rode, Miss Bennet,” Sir John Whitney said to her as the young people walked to Epsom. Or rather, the single people, because Mr Travers walked with them, talking to Darcy and Henry about wagering and horses, with Julia interrupting to occupy Darcy as often as she could.

“I do not remember you asking me, only Miss Metcalfe.” As Sir John occupied her attention, Elizabeth wondered which discussion was more wearisome to Darcy, the flirting or the horses. If she was on better terms with Darcy, they might share their opinions on annoying flatterers.

“If I neglected to ask you, I am sorry. I wonder what you look like mounted.”

“I do not ride,” she answered, keeping her patience at his insinuation in case she had misunderstood. She presumed he meant it in that suggestive way, but he flirted so recklessly that perhaps she assumed he meant a vulgar thing. “I learnt when I was younger, but I am sure I have forgotten it all from many years of neglect.”

“That is a shame, for you appear active and strongly made. You seem formed for a horsewoman.”

Sir John’s eyes slid appreciatively down her body. If Julia had the figure for a horsewoman and she was tall and full-formed, and so did Elizabeth although she was three inches shorter and not as shapely, then no woman ought to believe a word this man said. She supposed he only talked with her because Julia was throwing herself at Darcy.

“Do your flatteries impress ladies?” she asked him archly.

“Only the plain ones.” His eyes flashed with amusement as he openly appraised her.

Darcy, she noticed, kept glancing their way. Sir John was unrelenting. “So I accept your compliment and call myself plain, or protest and make a conceited claim for my beauty?”

“There would be nothing conceited about it. You would only be stating the truth.”

To draw herself from Sir John’s flirtations, she called to Henry, “What can you tell us of the history of Epsom? Was it not a spa town at one time?”

He stammered, “I, I think so. The water in the pond on the common west of the village supposedly cured some disorders.”

“I am only interested in what we can purchase here,” said Julia. “There must be many booths and stalls set up in anticipation of the race crowds.”

Henry had no reply other than a nod, so Elizabeth asked him, “Is it known what about the Epsom waters was curative?”

He gave her a smile, and a shrug that she supposed meant he did not know the answer.

“I think,” said Darcy, stepping away from Julia, “some physicians analysed the water and found it to comprise a soluble bitter purging salt. It heals sores and has a purgative effect when drunk. But the waters gradually lost their reputation.”

“You are a knowledgeable man, Mr Darcy,” Julia said in an approving tone Elizabeth knew Darcy must dislike.

“The only reason to come to Epsom now is for the races,” said Mr Travers as they approached the village. “I will leave you now. I want to see a few of the horses again ahead of tomorrow’s race, unremarkable as it will be.”

Henry began to ask why it was unremarkable, but Mr Travers touched his hat and walked away. Henry frowned and then said, seemingly to himself, “Maybe I will not attend tomorrow’s races if they are not to be any good.”

“Is one race not the same as any other?” asked Julia, but with her eyes still on Darcy.

“They become more elite and with higher winnings as the days go on,” Darcy answered. “Wednesday is the Epsom and Woodcote Stakes, Thursday is the grander Derby Stakes and Gold Cup, then Friday is the Oaks Stakes, also an impressive race, then Saturday is only the Hedley Stakes.”

“It makes no difference to me,” said Sir John. “I am here for the proper theatre of amusement and chaotic bustle that coincides with the races. Mr Travers may talk horseflesh and wagers. The society is of far more notice to me.”

Sir John included both her and Julia in his appreciative glance, and she barely contained her disgust. She was resolved to act more kindly toward her new acquaintances after she had treated Darcy so poorly, but Sir John tried her fortitude.

“Perhaps I will not bother to watch the races tomorrow,” said Henry. “I would rather visit the booths with my friends,” he added with a grin.

“You ought not to beg off,” Darcy hinted. “The Woodcote Stakes is tomorrow.”

Henry shrugged. “It was named for the house long before my family purchased it.”

“But does your brother not continue to fund the race, along with other enthusiasts and gentlemen?” When he did not answer, Darcy said carefully, “You should represent your family and meet with the organisers. Your father is gone and your brother is absent, and you would hate for your widowed mother to do it.”

This gentle admonishment succeeded, and Henry insisted he would attend. Elizabeth wondered if Darcy thought Henry needed a little guidance. He was timid and immature, unlike Darcy in nearly every way.

“That is the spirit,” said Sir John. “Plenty of time on the other days to enjoy all that the unruly crowds offer. Miss Bennet,” he said, turning to her, “I am at your command. What bauble or ribbon must you purchase?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, but he continued, “All ladies need a robust man to carry their purchases, after all.”

“Perhaps we could change places if Miss Bennet has nothing to buy?” Darcy asked. Julia visibly sulked. “Miss Metcalfe mentioned wanting to make a purchase, and Miss Bennet has seen friends of ours more recently than I have. She could tell me intelligence of our friends in Hertfordshire, which cannot be of any interest to the others.”