Page 38 of Her Affections and Wishes

She was going to marry Darcy. It was a fantastic, wonderful thing, and she blushed to think about it. She sank back into her seat, pressing her hands against her hot cheeks. He still loved her, and they were now engaged. Her family would be incredulous, but that would be overcome. And his family’s opinion must not matter; Darcy would not have proposed in the first place if it did.

His expressions may not overflow in uncommon mirth, but there was no mistaking what he still felt for her. When he turned and noticed her this morning in the garden, a look of heartfelt delight diffused over his face. It took all her strength not to put her arms around him and kiss him in greeting. Secret looks and knowing glances were to fill the rest of the week at Woodcote.

Her feelings had come on gradually, but now they were firmly settled in her heart and mind. She and Darcy would be the happiest couple in the world. How foolish she was to dread coming to Epsom. The rest of the race meeting would be a pleasure, certain as she was of Darcy’s regard.

“Ma’am,” called a footman at the door, “the Gold Cup will race shortly.”

The ladies descended and Elizabeth expected them to climb atop again, when Julia said, “Mrs Tessier, I cannot climb up there again. Let us walk and talk with your friends instead.”

“You do not want to see the race? We can sit inside if you do not want to stand on the roof.”

“Certainly not. I have seen one, and they are all the same. I prefer to talk with the ladies here who are more interested in society than horses.”

“Well, if you are certain, but⁠—”

“I must insist, Mrs Tessier. I cannot sit in the carriage a moment longer, and I need to stretch my legs.”

There were just as many people walking between the carriages as there were climbing atop them to better see the horses move to the starting line. “I hate to be disagreeable,” Elizabeth said, “but I would like to see this race. Can we not talk with friends when the race is over and whilst we await our turn to leave?”

Julia said coldly, “I did not ask you to join us.”

Elizabeth wished for Caroline Bingley’s company. She would have covered her dislike with the appearance of civility. Elizabeth doubted even Miss Bingley would have dared to announce that she was not welcome to walk with her and Darcy even if she knew Darcy intended to propose to her on that same walk. Had Mrs Tessier not been so agitated, fidgeting with her necklaces against her chest, Elizabeth would have been tempted to give Julia a scathing set down.

“I would not wish to intrude, Miss Metcalfe,” she said to spare her hostess’s feelings. “You must have private affairs to discuss. I will stay with the carriage and watch the race alone.”

She was not sorry to see them go as she had the coachman’s help to climb into the box and then hoist herself up to the top of the carriage. Not even Julia’s condescending attitude could spoil the thrilling enthusiasm of a race meeting. It did not matter that she had no money wagered on this race. There was something invigorating about the shared experience and the excitement of wondering who would win.

Elizabeth watched the flag signal and cheered on the horses, choosing one in her mind she wanted to win, when she heard the coachman beneath her cry out, “Hoy there!”

She turned from the race to see a boy in a hat run past the horses and strike one of them viciously with a whip. It nickered in pain and panicked. Elizabeth lost her balance as the horse leapt forward, dragging the other horse and the carriage with it. The coachman rushed to settle the horses, but the force of the lurching carriage tumbled her off the back with a shriek of alarm.

She crashed hard on the downs. Pain flooded her body and her vision faded black.

Chapter Eight

You were right, Mr Darcy,” Henry said to him as they walked back to Woodcote. Darcy was not sure where Sir John or Mr Travers finished the day, but he guessed Sir John to have been with a prostitute and Mr Travers had been wagering on tomorrow’s Oaks Stakes to recover his losses.

“About what?” he asked absently. He was eager to see Elizabeth and show her the token he had made for her. It was not grand, but she would like the sentiment. Their understanding felt so new. He was impatient to see her and give her tangible proof of his intentions.

“It is wise not to wager carelessly. Mr Travers was extraordinarily distressed that Octavius won.”

“He was.” Clearly it was a loss he could ill afford. What drove a man to such recklessness? “There is a difference between harmless entertainment, or even a little showing off amongst your friends, and irresponsible behaviour that puts your family at risk. You had best make sound investments and use the common sense you were born with to make your fortune.”

“Should I even go to the races tomorrow?” he asked, as if he did not trust his own resolve. “What if I am tempted to wager irresponsibly again?”

“You should go,” Darcy insisted. Henry was a dandy young man who likely had a dozen looking glasses in his dressing room, but he had moments of sensibleness. “Prove to yourself that you can be amongst such temptation without losing your self-control.”

“May I ask you for more advice? My father used to give the servants liberty to see one of the races during a meeting. I am certain my mother has not thought of it, but I remember. Ought I to say anything?”

Henry was willing to be led, and perhaps with some gentle guidance, he would soon make his own prudent decisions. “They would be very glad to go tomorrow, and your mother is such a considerate woman that I cannot imagine she would object to any servant wanting to spend a few hours to see the Oaks.”

They were entering the house when Henry’s eye was caught by a rider coming up to the stables in some haste, and he made a quiet noise of alarm. “That is Mr Hunter,” he mused. “The surgeon. Someone must have taken ill.”

Darcy parted from Henry in the hall and received word from his valet that Mrs Tessier had arranged for them to be invited to a neighbour’s dinner and a musical evening. He dressed for it with little care. All that mattered to him was to steal as many moments as he could with Elizabeth. He wanted to know how she enjoyed her second day at the races and to tell her he won thirty pounds using her strategy of wagering on anyone in green.

When he went to meet the others, Mrs Tessier was in the midst of telling Henry and Sir John something, her handkerchief clutched in a shaking hand wearing too many large rings. He noticed that Elizabeth and Julia Metcalfe were absent.

“Are the young ladies still dressing?” he asked, being sure to mention both of them and not single out Elizabeth.