Page 54 of Her Affections and Wishes

She smiled in scorn. “You could not understand. Well, you did spend an afternoon in a locked space with a man, so perhaps you can.”

It was not proof, but her suspicions were further raised. Before she could ask, her door opened again and Lady Metcalfe entered. What was the point of having a door if everyone entered whenever they pleased?

“So, you have induced a weak man into matrimony,” she said in an icy voice. “Lady Catherine will be incensed.”

“A weak man?” she repeated. It burned how neither woman appreciated Darcy yet were dying for Julia to have him. “That shows how little you know him.”

“You only know whatever your solicitations won you today,” said Lady Metcalfe. Her spitefulness rivalled her daughter’s. “How fortunate for you that he offered to marry you for it.”

“I consider myself fortunate not because I will have his name and his protection, his money, or his house. I am bestowing myself upon one who is in every respect worthy of my warmest admiration, esteem, and affection,” she cried, turning to Julia. The idea that she had been with Mr Travers hours after trying to seduce Darcy baffled her. “Why not resolve on Mr Travers? You know him just as well as you know Mr Darcy.”

“Absolutely not,” muttered Lady Metcalfe. Julia only made a disgusted face.

Elizabeth gave up. She was sick of the lot of them and returned to her packing. She had wanted to act with kind-hearted civility toward them both, but it was no longer possible.

“Do not turn your back on me, Miss Bennet,” demanded Lady Metcalfe. “I did not bring you here to find you a husband at the expense of my daughter’s future happiness.”

“I did not disappoint her on purpose,” she cried, “and Mr Darcy is not your possession to dispose of how you see fit. Miss Metcalfe knows that he has a mind of his own. She could not sway him.”

“I would have,” Julia interjected, “if I had such an opportunity as you had today!”

Elizabeth was furious enough to ask, “Did you have anything to do with that opportunity? Did you want me out of the way to work on Darcy? Flirt with him at the races? Spend all evening by his side in the drawing room making him forget me? As though he would not inquire after me the entire day, not demand everyone look for me when I was not in my room. Did you think pretending I was in bed resting would be enough to convince him to spend the night with you, too? How long would you have left me there? And how unlucky for you that he was on the stairs when you blocked the door.”

Julia did not deny it, and rage on her face made Elizabeth wonder if she would raise a hand to her. Instead, she let out another screech and stormed off, with her mother close on her heels. Elizabeth fell onto the bed, weary of everything, sore from yesterday and from sitting on the floor today.

As much as she had not wanted to leave under a cloud of gossip, or have Darcy announce their engagement and expose her further to Julia’s fury, she would be glad to get away from Woodcote Park.

Darcy glared at Mr Travers as he arranged the billiard table. The man must have helped his lover trap him and Elizabeth. Had he made Elizabeth fall from the carriage because Julia asked him? Nothing made sense, and he could not accuse anyone without proof. Unless he was secure, had no doubt at all, he had to continue to be courteous—and it galled him.

“May you and your bride live many years to enjoy that genuine felicity attendant on the conjugal state,” Henry said prettily. Darcy inclined his head in thanks, eager for this all to be over so he could make certain Elizabeth would actually leave with him in the morning.

“That felicity happens when marriage is entered upon from proper motives,” added Sir John as he raised his glass. “It must have been a charming afternoon, but is Miss Bennet’s company enough to stake your future life on?”

Darcy ground his teeth. Some good-natured teasing from other men was to be expected in these cases, but hearing Elizabeth spoken of in such terms made him more eager to leave Woodcote. “I would have married her months ago,” he said. “Being trapped together did not influence or hasten me.”

Sir John made a disbelieving sound. “What happened against that staircase? Or, judging by the dust on Miss Bennet, perhaps against the wall?”

Henry looked aghast and Mr Travers said nothing, and Darcy wondered if Elizabeth would be any angrier with him if she heard he struck Sir John in the face. “Sir, do you have any proper feelings of delicacy and propriety? Have a due regard for the character and reputation of my future wife.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “The bridegroom has spoken, men.” To Henry, he said, “Do not rush to marry, and be sure to sow your wild oats before you do.”

“Have you not done enough of that this week with every prostitute down from London?” Darcy asked.

“There is still tomorrow,” he said, grinning. “And, not to worry, I enjoy them in armour, so, Tessier, take note and be equally cautious.”

Henry looked like he wished for the floor to open up and consume him, but he nodded and took his shot, missing wide.

“Not that I object to the institution,” Sir John went on. “I must resign myself and marry, and find a fortune in the bargain. I am now thirty, and that seems a good age to settle into domestic life, so Tessier has some time yet.” He took his shot and prattled on. “Now, Mr Travers, I do not comprehend why you are single. Forty has come and gone, so why remain a bachelor?”

Mr Travers shrugged as Sir John missed, and he stepped to the table to take his turn. He seldom spoke if the subject was not horses, and never upon occasions where a reply was expected.

“Come now, Travers,” pressed Sir John, “I know your father holds the purse strings, but you must have enough to marry on. Or you could find a rich woman to have you.”

Darcy wondered why Mr Travers did not marry Julia. He enjoyed what she offered, and she must be pressuring every man she waylaid to propose if she was pregnant and needed to marry before it was too late. “Have you ever considered marrying?” Darcy pressed him.

Mr Travers sucked in a breath and aimed. “Once. My father did not approve of my choice when I was about Mr Henry Tessier’s age.” He made his shot, and walked round the table to shoot again whilst the rest of them shared a look of surprise.

“Why not?” Henry asked. “What happened to the lady?”