Page 64 of Her Affections and Wishes

“Lady Metcalfe drove here in a cart, dressed in men’s clothes,” he shouted to the others. “Miss Bennet is in grave danger.”

They split up in different directions, nudging their way through the crowd. There were eight of them, including himself, but that was not nearly enough people. He needed an entire company of men, maybe even a battalion, to search for Elizabeth. Although the crowd was lessened on this final day of the meeting, there were still ten thousand people at the course.

Darcy brought his horse to a trot along the outskirts of the crowd, looking over them and straining to see Lady Metcalfe. How would he find her amid so many people? He felt sick, and not because of the arsenic. What happened to the body and the mind when panic overwhelms? This was a different twisting sensation in his stomach, a different weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe. He had lost all control, and he was one terrified thought away from letting fear consume him.

There were many things to catch the eye: cockfighting, prize-fighting, gaming tents, jugglers, ballad singers, ladies on stilts. Gambling tables, publican booths, prostitutes. And most entertainers and vendors had a cart. Darcy cursed to himself as he rode along. How was he to find one woman, dressed as a man, in a crowd of thousands?

A roar built up as one of the lesser heats began. The racecourse was not a circuit but U-shaped, with chutes for the start for sprint races. He watched the horses make the wide sweeping left turn at Tattenham Corner as the horses descended toward the straight. Although he was several rows back, the roaring hooves and shouts of the crowd vibrated through his chest as the horses thundered past.

Why had Lady Metcalfe brought Elizabeth here?

“Well met, Darcy!” He turned to see Sir John touch his hat. “Do you have anything on this race?”

“Have you seen Lady Metcalfe?” he demanded.

“No, but perhaps Mrs Tessier has.” Sir John pointed. “I was just going⁠—”

Darcy rode past him and saw Mrs Tessier’s landau about twenty yards away. He had not even noticed her in the crowd. How was he to find Elizabeth here? He forced himself through the masses to see her carriage right before the turf. Mrs Tessier and her son were in the open landau, and Mr Travers was atop his horse.

“Lady Metcalfe has taken Elizabeth!” he cried once he was in shouting distance.

They all stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

“What are you saying?” Mrs Tessier asked.

“Lady Metcalfe knocked over the vase, startled your horse, and last night tried to poison her,” cried Darcy. “It is all from the deluded hope that I would move my affections from Miss Bennet to Miss Metcalfe. She will kill her if we do not find her.”

“That is madness,” whispered Henry, whilst his mother gaped in open-mouthed confusion.

“Your servants are all with me to help find her!” He waved his arm over the crowd. “They have been missing for hours. Lady Metcalfe has dressed as a boy and brought Miss Bennet here in your cart. We know they struggled and Miss Bennet might be hurt! We must find her before it is too late.”

“But, but…Louisa would never do such a thing,” stammered Mrs Tessier.

Darcy tried to hold on to his unravelling patience. “Do you think I am lying?”

Henry blinked in confusion, but stood up in the carriage and climbed onto the seat, catching his balance and gazing all round. “Get up, Mamma, and help me look. We would recognise the cart and pony.”

Mrs Tessier fretted for a moment and then stood, searching the crowd behind her whilst Henry gazed across the turf to the other side. Meanwhile, Sir John had made his way through the crowd and joined them in time to hear the disturbing tale. He mounted his horse, calling out, “I will search the other side of the course!”

Mr Travers had not reacted at all, and his indifferent air infuriated Darcy.

“Are you in her confidence?” Darcy demanded. “Do you know what Lady Metcalfe plans to do to Miss Bennet?”

“Certainly not.” His tone was all surprise.

“Is she capable of killing her?” Darcy pressed.

Mr Travers shrugged. “I scarcely know the lady.”

“Did you not come to Woodcote to see her? You meet her at every race meeting.”

“I come here to wager, Mr Darcy.”

His fists clenched on the reins in anger. “And to enjoy the affections of a woman who still holds out hope that you will marry her. You did not want to marry and jointure a wife or pay for children if you were disinherited. Your father would have cut you off if you married her, and you wager hoping to have more to spend and—” A thought came to him. “Is that why your father limits you? You do not gamble to increase your allowance; your allowance is restricted because you wager too much.”

Mr Travers clenched his jaw. “You have said quite enough.”

Darcy supposed he had. Mr Travers’s poor choices were not his concern. “What would Lady Metcalfe do to Miss Bennet if she was convinced her death would make me turn to Miss Metcalfe? You know her best.”