Chapter 1 #3
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.”
He and his cousin murmured their best wishes for a good outcome. Tessier bowed, then gave Darcy a pointed stare. “Darcy, are you going to Epsom race meeting? Perhaps to see what horses your uncle will face this summer?”
“Not this year,” he said civilly. He sometimes went to Doncaster or York with his uncle, who had a fine racing stable.
He enjoyed a horse race, but the bustle of a week at the turf did not suit him.
Besides, he was too downcast to pretend to enjoy the liveliness.
There were always parties and assemblies, and with the attitude of a country fair amid the near week-long races.
“Would you consider it,” Tessier said hesitantly, “if I invited you to stay at Woodcote to keep an eye on Henry? My mother is having friends for the week, so one more guest would be no bother at all. She will remember you and welcome you.”
Darcy was taken aback. He was good enough friends with Tessier that the request was not forward, but it was an awkward one because he did not want to go, even if Tessier’s mother did like him.
A week amongst strangers and men obsessed with the turf and women looking for a match?
“I am afraid I am not at liberty to leave town so soon.”
“Oh, if you mean Georgiana, I can take her to the theatre for you,” his cousin said heavily. “Today is Saturday, and the races are Wednesday through next Saturday. You can leave Monday morning and come back in a week.”
Could one fire bullets from their eyes? He certainly tried to with the glare he gave Fitzwilliam.
It was all the more awkward now. How could he refuse without insulting Tessier, whose father died six months ago and whose brother was without guidance whilst Tessier anxiously awaited the birth of his child?
A friend asked for his help, so what was he to do?
“I would be glad to see your mother again and do what I can to keep Henry from any bad influence.”
Tessier grinned and shook his hand. “If you could keep him from spending every pound of his inheritance, that is all I ask. Just lessen the influence of my mother’s gaming and dallying friends.
She is my step-mother, truly, but she loved me like a mother, and there are many years between me and Henry.
I will write to her; she is always glad to have people around. ”
He parted from them with many more thanks and good wishes, and left the club for the evening. When Tessier was gone, Darcy turned to his cousin with a scowl. “Why, pray tell, did you encourage me to waste a week at the turf to mind a boy who does not have the sense to not make a fool of himself?”
Fitzwilliam threw up his hands. “What? Young Mr Henry Tessier just needs a voice in his ear to remind him what his father taught him.”
“Yes,” he ground out, “but to do that I must spend a week residing in a house with strangers, within walking distance to a racecourse that will have tens of thousands of people descend upon it, all to waste their money, drink to excess, and engage in frivolity and flirting.”
“Most people would call that entertaining.”
Darcy rubbed a hand over his eyes before they walked to the Card Room. “I will be miserable. It will be a vast, unruly crowd with no one worth speaking to.”
“You will have the company at the house as well.”
“I was referring to the company at the house.”
Fitzwilliam lifted up his eyes. “You should go. You need to force yourself out of this melancholy that has taken hold of you.”
This drew him up short. “I am not melancholy.”
“You have been dull since we left Hunsford. You should be less dull after leaving Lady Catherine.”
His cousin watched him, waiting for him to refute it, or explain, or say anything at all.
Darcy could not talk about what happened with Elizabeth.
He was too heartbroken, and too ashamed of himself for how he had acted his entire life.
Perhaps going to Woodcote Park and acting with more civility toward strangers was what he needed.
He had to take the trouble, and although Elizabeth would never know he took her reproofs to heart, it was still what he had to do to be the man he wanted to be.
“You are right,” he muttered as he cast the dice. “I will go to Epsom and be a steadying influence on Henry Tessier, at least whilst the scene is full of swindlers, gamblers, and crime. And,” he emphasised, “I will treat all I meet civilly and kindly.”
“Will wonders never cease?” his cousin teased. “Maybe some lady will catch your eye, too.”
Darcy scoffed. “I was talking of possibilities.”