Page 3 of Her Affections and Wishes

He was not a little cross at the unjust prejudice Elizabeth had taken against him, but she never deserved his anger, even if he only expressed it in his own mind. Disappointment and heartache did not make one wise. Darcy had done nothing to earn her good opinion and everything to expose himself to her contempt.

Elizabeth thought him selfish and ungentlemanly, and over the past fortnight in town he had realised she was right. Her accusations were formed on mistaken premises, but his behaviour merited the severest reproof. He had acted inexcusably, both to her and every person outside his circle.

He was thoroughly disgusted with himself. He might have lost Elizabeth forever, but he could at least lessen her hatred of him.

On his return to London, he had confessed to Bingley every way he had wronged him, which had, for a time, and not unjustly, offended his friend. Miss Bennet had been in town last winter, Darcy had known it, and he purposefully kept it from him. Even assuring Bingley that Elizabeth’s good information hinted her sister’s feelings matched his own had not completely removed Bingley’s anger. But now, this first week in May, Bingley was in Hertfordshire, and his recent letter said he was dining at Longbourn tonight.

Darcy expected his friend would be engaged within a fortnight.

The second thing he had done was less about reducing Elizabeth’s hatred of him and more about doing what was right. Elizabeth had believed Wickham was a trustworthy man because Darcy had allowed it. His own sister and father had been duped by Wickham—how many other unsuspecting women of character might be tricked? It was his fault Elizabeth had thought of Wickham as her friend, his mistaken pride that had prevented him from telling everyone in Meryton what Wickham really was.

It was therefore his duty to write to Mr Bennet and endeavour to remedy an evil that had been brought on by himself. He entreated Elizabeth’s father to do what Darcy had not and caution the neighbourhood against Wickham. He did not mention Georgiana specifically, but mentioned how Wickham had forsaken the living intended for him and squandered the money paid in lieu of it, and that gambling debts, cheated tradesmen, and ruined women were left behind wherever he went.

“You look morose.”

Darcy lifted his head to see his cousin slide into the chair across from him in Brooks’s Small Drawing Room. Was it half eight already? He was supposed to meet Colonel Fitzwilliam and their friends in the Card Room. “No, just absence of mind,” he lied.

“You have been tiresome company since we left Kent,” Fitzwilliam said with a sharp look. “Promise me it is not because you left your love behind.”

“What!” He had taken such pains to prevent Fitzwilliam from having any notion he was in love with Elizabeth and had been dismissed. She was right to reject him, of course, but it was not a pain he was ready to share.

“You are not pining for Anne, are you?” his cousin teased. “Just propose and make your tacit engagement a formal one.”

Darcy let out a slow breath. Fitzwilliam was only goading him. “I promise you, proposing to Anne has never once crossed my mind. I have told Lady Catherine her hopes and wishes were misplaced, but…”

“But when does she hear any opinion contrary to her own?” Fitzwilliam finished with a grin. “Come on, let us spend some of that extraordinary income of yours on hazard.”

He grudgingly rose. The tone at Brooks’s shifted in the evening with more gambling and drinking by those younger men unencumbered by families, or scruples. But he had little spirit for anything lately. No one would force him to talk more than the game required.

“Darcy?” a man called before he had taken a few steps.

He turned to see Lewis Tessier moving toward the door. Tessier held out a hand and asked him how he did. Darcy took it and noted the black ribbon around his arm, recalling his friend’s father had died last autumn.

“Did Miss Darcy like the pendant you chose for her birthday?” Tessier asked after Darcy greeted him and introduced his cousin.

“How kind of you to remember,” Darcy said. He had bought it last summer when Georgiana turned fifteen. “You were correct. The sapphire was better suited for her eyes.”

“You are a merchant, with a jewellery shop?” Fitzwilliam asked.

His cousin said it politely, even with an interested smile, but Darcy felt the censure. Fitzwilliam was surprised he was friends with a merchant, or that such a man was a member of Brooks’s.

“I merely gave Darcy advice. My father was a jeweller,” Tessier said. “Although he sold the business before he died.” If Tessier noticed any slight, he was accustomed enough to it to ignore it. “We come from Huguenots, and initially the family had no connexion to the silver and jewellery trade, but we became involved by helping wealthy French refugees dispose of their jewellery.”

“Their fine establishment probably made your father’s coronet,” Darcy said to Fitzwilliam. “My friend and his father have supported French refugees since the revolution and are liberal to the poor besides that.” The point was made, and Fitzwilliam would say nothing more about it.

His mind briefly went to Elizabeth, and he wondered if she thought him too proud to be friends with such a person. He had not shown her otherwise with his manner or with his general disdain of those outside his circle.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Darcy said with a gesture to the mourning band. “I know what that hurt is, and when it is sudden, the loss is even more painful.” Tessier cleared his throat, and Darcy quickly changed the subject. “Is your mother now with you?”

“Mother has the house in Surrey—she has a life interest. Besides, my wife does not have the heart to move her out, even if we could take it now. My brother Henry is eighteen, and I am more worried about him.”

“Eighteen, no father, and too much allowance to spend?” Fitzwilliam asked.

Tessier sighed. “Precisely. He will begin at Cambridge in the autumn. Henry is a good lad, but an impressionable one. He will come to us for the summer, which will do him good, but I know he will overspend and make a fool of himself at the races next week. And I will suffer both the payments and the embarrassment.”

Darcy recalled Woodcote Park was within walking distance of Epsom Downs. “Perhaps you ought to attend and keep an eye on him. He needs a steadying influence at such a time,” Darcy added.

“My wife and I expect a new addition any day. I will not leave her.”