Page 16 of Her Affections and Wishes

“I have no objection, but will the others wonder where we are?”

“Epsom is not large, and the others will assume we have gone home once Miss Metcalfe is finished. Mr Travers is more interested in the horses, and he will not seek us out either.”

“You rode with him this morning. Do you know him well?”

“Not at all, but he wanted to see the competitors, and I had no objection.” There was no need to mention Mr Travers had only wanted a gaming loan. “He says very little not related to racing. He seems to be a bachelor who grew up with Lady Metcalfe. He knew the late Mr Tessier, but I think he—and Sir John Whitney—are here because Woodcote is near to the racecourse. Mr Travers’s father, the baron, controls everything, I understand. Sanford Court in Sussex is his seat, but Mr Travers lives in town on an allowance from Lord Patten.”

“It must be vexing to a man of his age to have little of one’s own.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but at the same time, I would exchange my inheritance for a meagre allowance if it meant my father was still with me.”

“Of course,” she murmured. “My family is a trial at times, for varying reasons, but they are all dear to me.” Before he could say that he respected them, or at the least he knew now that he should and he would, she asked, “And what of Sir John Whitney? Did you know him?”

“We have similar circles in town,” he hedged. “He has two thousand a year. Clare Court in Nottinghamshire is said to be a fine house, although I have never seen it.”

“But what can you tell me about his character?”

Darcy blew out a breath. He was a flirt who made a spectacle of himself with women, single and married. “He is a popular man.”

“I found him trifling,” she muttered. “He may be harmless, but he is without substance.”

“Trifling” was a good word to describe him. “I hear he built a tennis court, though he never struck a ball. He maintains a fine pack of fox hounds, though he rarely follows a chase.”

Elizabeth gave him a long look. “Then may I ask you something? Why are you here? It cannot be for lodging near to Epsom Downs during the races. You dislike Sir John, you do not know Mr Travers, and Julia Metcalfe is on the hunt for a husband and has set her cap at you.”

He felt a surge of hope that Elizabeth was jealous, and then irritation that she thought he was recovered enough to pursue another woman so soon after losing her. And then he was a little offended she thought Julia Metcalfe of all women could attract him. Although, one could wonder given Julia’s attentions to him. With her flaxen tresses and being a tall, majestic woman, the daughter of a baronet with five thousand pounds, Julia could capture many men willing to be caught.

“They are my aunt’s neighbours,” he insisted. “Mere bowing acquaintances. Did you befriend Miss Metcalfe whilst you stayed with Mrs Collins?” He could not keep a sceptical tone from his question.

“Oh no,” she said with a trembling laugh. “Lady Catherine arranged this all on her own.” He lifted his eyes, and she laughed again and then repeated, “Why are you here?”

He explained being friends with Lewis Tessier, and his concerns over who would influence his young brother at the race meeting. “There is much disorder and drunkenness, and excessive wagering,” he added. “Tessier is awaiting the birth of a child and wanted someone to watch Mr Henry Tessier since his mother is lenient and his father has died.”

“Mr Henry needs a good example to follow, and he will find no better one than you,” she said. Her praise made a warmth spread through his chest. “You are a good friend to Mr Tessier. I knew it had to be something,” she added playfully.

“You cannot see me friends with a lax widow and an ungainly boy?”

“No more than you can see me friends with an ambitious, heartless woman,” she quipped. Then Elizabeth exhaled and dropped her eyes. “I should not have said that.”

“You can say the truth to me. You always have,” he said with a smile to show her he bore her no ill will.

“I have also been unduly rude,” she whispered. “You did not deserve the abuse I gave you.”

“I deserved some of it,” he said firmly. “But to prove we have both improved in civility, we will keep secret our opinions of our fellow inmates of Woodcote.”

She laughed a little. “I might give you a few expressive smiles if Sir John continues to admire me only when he cannot charm Miss Metcalfe.”

“And I might give you a commiserating sigh and lift my shoulders now and then, but only when Miss Metcalfe’s and Lady Metcalfe’s backs are turned.”

They had been walking through Woodcote’s park and now had a view of the house. It was a sprawling, ostentatious building. It was surrounded by a ring fence, enclosing the lands to a considerable extent and with trees crowding the house but without a shrubbery or an avenue.

Elizabeth looked at the house with a wrinkle between her eyebrows, and said, “I hate to criticise, but the situation of the house is dreadful, for it would not be an ill-looking place if it had a better approach.”

“Our opinions coincide.” He paused, wondering if that had ever happened before. “It is unfortunate the mansion is entirely secluded from view. If a few trees were removed,” he said, pointing, “the house would be visible, and add greatly to the beauty of the surrounding scenery.”

“Is Pemberley better situated?”

He smiled. “If you are trying to make me boast of my home only to call me excessively proud, I intend to overthrow your scheme and cheat you of your premeditated contempt.”