Page 2 of Her Affections and Wishes

After the introductions were made, Lady Catherine gestured to her neighbour and said to Elizabeth, “I have spoken to Lady Metcalfe, and she has agreed to bring you to Woodcote Park for the week of the Epsom race meeting.”

“I shall be glad to have you with us,” Lady Metcalfe said in a tone that suggested the opposite.

Indignation overwhelmed her. Lady Catherine’s officious interference far surpassed Darcy keeping his friend from what he feared was an unequal attachment. How had she ever thought aunt and nephew were alike?

“This will not do! What am I to do until the races in May? How am I to return to Hertfordshire from Surrey? Lady Metcalfe will return here to Kent. And what about my parents? And my uncle? They expect me, and he is sending a man for us in the morning.”

A heavy silence filled the drawing room. Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence. Mr Collins looked as though he had never seen such a disgusting display. Maria had audibly gasped. Charlotte had dropped her eyes, and Lady Metcalfe shifted out of Lady Catherine’s line of sight. Miss de Bourgh was silent as always.

“Miss Bennet, I am shocked,” Lady Catherine retorted. “Shocked and astonished that the first words from your mouth are not ‘thank you, madam.’ And to suggest I did not arrange matters fully is offensive. Miss Lucas can return to town tomorrow with the servant your uncle sends, and can bring a letter to your sister for your parents to explain that you have the great fortune to be noticed by me and sent to be amongst grand people. Mrs Tessier will send you back to Hunsford—she has two carriages—and Mr Collins can send a manservant with you to your uncle’s. You can travel post with your uncle’s man as far as you need to where your father can send his carriage. It is a slight inconvenience to pay for the price of a magnificent opportunity.”

Anger burned in her chest. Mr Collins said how deeply he appreciated her ladyship’s notice and although he had but one manservant he would be honoured to send him to accompany his cousin to town and that she must of course stay with him and his dear wife until race week. Whilst he prattled, Elizabeth forced Charlotte to meet her eye. Surely her friend would support her, for Lady Catherine had gone too far.

But when Charlotte raised her eyes, Elizabeth saw the truth: her friend silently begged her to accept. Charlotte would have no peace if she refused.

For the rest of Charlotte’s life, Lady Catherine would complain at length about her ungrateful friend. And if she refused, Elizabeth could never return to visit Charlotte. Lady Catherine had removed all reasonable objections, and no one cared that Elizabeth had an interest in neither horse racing nor meeting whatever young men thought a week at the races was enjoyable.

And she had been exceedingly rude to Darcy, so how could she be impolite to his aunt? Was that the sort of person she wanted to be? She must be less quick to judge and more forbearing. Knowing she ought to have behaved better by him, she could at least keep her patience with his aunt.

Recovering her self-possession, she apologised to Lady Catherine, saying, “I was so overcome by the details, I failed to first acknowledge the great honour you have shown me.” Elizabeth then forced herself to thank Lady Catherine in language that, whilst approaching Mr Collins’s methods, was still on the side of maintaining her self-respect.

Lady Catherine smiled. “You must make the most of the opportunity I have given you. You are a genteel, pretty kind of girl, and I will be glad to see you well situated. You may thank me when you visit Mrs Collins next year with your husband. If you do not find a suitable match at Epsom, then you will at least make a wider acquaintance that will help your prospects.”

Lady Catherine then announced the topic was at an end, and they played cards for the remainder of the evening. She kept Elizabeth by her, and Elizabeth had no opportunity to take Lady Metcalfe aside and tell her she need not take her to Epsom if she did not wish it. At the close of the evening, Lady Metcalfe spoke to her as they were all entering their carriages.

“My daughter and I will collect you on Monday the eleventh at an early hour,” she said, sounding as though she resented the whole thing. “Mrs Tessier wrote there is an assembly in Epsom that evening and we must be there in plenty of time. My daughter will find a husband during race week.” Without waiting for a reply, she climbed in and left.

Not trusting her temper, Elizabeth parted silently from the company at Rosings and did not speak on the ride home. When they were back at the parsonage, as Elizabeth unpacked and Maria frantically repacked her trunks on Lady Catherine’s advice, Charlotte tried to assuage her.

“It is a gracious gesture, Eliza, and you always enjoy meeting new people.”

“It is high-handed. I do not even know how to ride a horse; why would I watch them race?”

“I think Lady Catherine hopes you will take more interest in the men.”

“And the men are more interested in the horses, I promise you,” Elizabeth answered, tugging a gown from her trunk and throwing it back in her closet. “It will be a great waste of time, and a great inconvenience to a great many people. Lady Catherine never thinks of anyone else.”

“I think her heart is in the right place, even if her manner is…”

“Officious? Overbearing?”

Charlotte shook her head. “You are distressed that you were manoeuvred. Once you are reconciled to the scheme, you will realise what a grand opportunity this could be.”

“To tag with a stranger who wishes to see her own daughter married, to throw us both amongst a group of men gathering to watch horses run, to be pitied when I return still single? Yes, I am blessed.”

“You might actually meet someone, you know.”

“Then shall we place a wager?” Elizabeth asked, closing the lid to her empty trunk with a thud. “That would be in the spirit of racing and betting. I wager a crown I am not engaged before the last race on Saturday.”

Charlotte gave her a tired smile and laughed. “And I will bet that you are engaged before the Derby Stakes.”

They shook hands. At the least, Elizabeth would be richer when she returned from Epsom.

Fitzwilliam Darcy’s anger had taken several courses since he left Kent. Sorrow and confusion mingled with anger clouded every activity from the moment he proposed until the day he and his cousin returned to town. It had never entered his mind that Elizabeth Bennet would refuse his addresses.

Then his anger shifted from Elizabeth toward Wickham, and what Wickham’s misdeeds had cost him. That man, with a nature incapable of overcoming his own faults, had been a source of pain and disgust for years. Fury at Wickham occupied Darcy’s every thought and breath for about another week.

But finally anger at Wickham moved, deservingly, toward himself.