Chapter 2 #3
Elizabeth’s stomach turned over, then she chastised herself for being so foolish to think of Darcy.
There must be many wealthy, single men from Derbyshire in their late twenties.
This sudden fear was only because Darcy had been so recently on her mind.
But what would she do if she ever saw him again?
She would be exceedingly civil. If he deigned to acknowledge her, she would apologise for abusing him.
If he allowed her to tell him that, then she would add that she had been wrong about him.
Whilst there were many things said by them both the night he proposed that ought not to be repeated, she remembered how warmly he expressed his regard, and it softened the impropriety of its delivery.
She shook her head and forced herself into conversation with Henry. It did not matter what her opinion of Darcy was now because, after what she said to him, he would hate the sight of her.
Darcy would have preferred to stay at Woodcote Park alone whilst the family and their other guests traipsed to the Epsom assembly rooms. Aside from it being a public ball, it would be crowded as people poured into the area in anticipation of the races.
Mr Warren, his valet, had told him there were two single young ladies in the party, in addition to the two widows. He would have to dance with them all.
But that was what a gentleman would do without complaint. And a gentleman would also garner an introduction to a lady sitting down and ask her to dance. It was not enough for him to just want to treat others better and wish himself to be a more gracious person. He would have to act.
Besides, hiding at home would not be a good example to Mr Henry Tessier. Henry ought to dance and make his guests feel welcome, not hide in the card room and waste his money. Darcy was here to demonstrate gentlemanly manners and responsibility. So he had to dance and make himself agreeable.
He noted the hour with a curse and hurried through the large house, noting its ostentatious ornaments with a lifted eye, and took the entrance hall stairs quickly. “Forgive me for keeping you,” he said to Mrs Tessier, who was handing her son a pair of gloves.
“You did not have to hurry, Mr Darcy,” said Mrs Tessier. “Let me introduce the others.”
She tried to introduce someone to him, but his attention was caught by the faint gasp. Darcy spun round to see the shocked and pale face of Elizabeth Bennet.
He contemplated the scene before him with a mixture of perplexity and disbelief.
She was next to Lady Metcalfe and her daughter, whom he recognised from his visits to Lady Catherine.
Why was Elizabeth here? She must be one of the guests, and that meant they were to reside in the same house for a week.
Since she gaped at him in utter amazement, she could not have expected to see him either. Did she hate him?
His mind jumped from one confused thought to the other, and every idea of what to say to her failed him. Eventually, Elizabeth stopped staring and dropped to a perfunctory curtsey.
Recovering from his surprise, he bowed, murmuring something or other about being glad to see her again.
Was he glad? Honestly, he felt rather sick, hot all over, his stomach churning and his heart pounding.
He was mortified as every awful thing he had said to her came to mind, about how her family was an embarrassment and how he had to overcome all his reluctance at the idea of marrying her.
He had not tried to please her at all. What could he say to her now?
“Do you know one another?” asked Henry, looking between them curiously.
“Oh no,” said Julia Metcalfe, “this is merely a friend of no consequence somewhat connected to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. We had to bring her to the races, but she would not have moved in our circles before.”
Darcy felt a surge of annoyance toward this woman for slighting Elizabeth. Then he felt the twist of guilt for once having similar thoughts about her family’s rank. “I do know Miss Bennet,” he said sharply. “She, she…”
What could he say? That she broke his heart, but she was right to do it? That he thought she would be the mother of his children, the mistress of his home, the love of his life, but she hated him?
“We were in Kent at the same time,” Elizabeth said, looking anywhere but at him, “and spent a few evenings together at Rosings with Mr Darcy’s aunt.”
Julia frowned, but then recovered. “I did not see you there. What a shame Lady Catherine did not invite you to the parties that included her nephews and people of rank. You must be grateful to be amongst us now.” To him, she said, whilst holding out her hand and giving him an alluring gaze, “How good to see you again, Mr Darcy.”
Darcy noted the displeasure that flitted across Elizabeth’s eyes. He was well acquainted with that look. Julia was a trial to her. Somehow, his aunt had convinced Lady Metcalfe to bring Elizabeth to Epsom, and Julia resented it.
He only lightly touched the offered hand, bowing over it rather than bringing it to his lips. “Good evening.”
“Would you assist me in the carriage?” Julia asked, linking an arm through his.
“Yes, let us go,” said Mrs Tessier, shooing them out the door whilst introducing the other two men. Sir John Whitney he knew from their shared circles in town, a flirt who made a parade of himself wherever he went. Mr Travers he recognised from the card tables and dice games.
The Epsom assembly rooms had a central courtyard that ran the full length of the downstairs for carriages to be driven in and sedan chairs carried.
Darcy alighted from the second carriage and went to hand down the ladies from the first. His hand shook when Elizabeth gripped it, and he expected her to snatch it away once her feet touched the ground.
However, she gave him a tremulous smile before ducking her head.
There was no just cause for a polite smile to send his heart racing hopefully.
Henry started to bound toward a group of noisy youths, but Darcy quietly called his name.
When Henry turned back, Darcy tilted his head toward his mother and widened his eyes.
Henry’s father had probably escorted his mother to assemblies, and Darcy watched Henry’s shoulders fall.
However, he trotted back and held out his arm.
“Shall we, Mamma?”
Mrs Tessier smiled at his thoughtfulness and briefly laid her head against his arm before they went inside. He dressed as a dandy and to Darcy it seemed that Henry’s sole function tonight was to show off his clothes. But perhaps not all hope was lost if he could be attentive to his mother.
Elizabeth watched him curiously, but before Darcy could speak, Julia clutched his arm and he led her inside. Sir John Whitney whispered into Elizabeth’s ear, and she nodded. He must have asked her to dance, and Darcy did as expected and asked Julia. A superior smile crossed her beautiful features.
This was why he did not ask single women he was not well acquainted with to dance. To him, it was a social nicety, and one he should do more often because it was rude of him to attend and just stand there. However, some ladies thought it was the first step to falling in love.
“I am pleased to have this chance to know you better,” Julia said as they went down the dance. “What luck we will be inmates of the same house for a week.”
Darcy tore his eyes from watching Elizabeth dance with Sir John. He seemed to talk a great deal, but he could not tell from this distance if her smiles were civil or genuine. “The races will occupy me, Miss Metcalfe, so you must forgive me if we do not become well acquainted.”
She squeezed his hand a little as they danced, ignoring his hint. “Mr Darcy,” she said with a soft laugh and a long look into his eyes, “the races only occupy the days. We will be quite at our liberty at night.”
Darcy made her no answer. Julia was not a young woman first entering society. She had the manner of someone who knew how to entice a man. He would be sure not to be alone with her, and was not sorry to see their dance end.
He could not find Lady Metcalfe in the crowd.
Where had she gone so early in the evening?
There were thirty couples dancing, and he was certain an Epsom assembly was not typically this crowded, but the races began Wednesday.
Every room within ten miles was already let and every mansion would have guests.
Giving up on finding Lady Metcalfe, Darcy brought Julia to the bejewelled and talkative Mrs Tessier.
“Will you dance, madam?” he asked the widow.
“Me! Oh, no, I would get you a better partner than myself,” she said, tapping him on the arm with her fan in mock outrage. “Here is Henry, and he can introduce you to any young lady.”
“I was about to go to the card room, Mamma.”
Darcy said, not quite meaning it, “I had hoped you would find me a partner.”
Henry’s mother ordered him to introduce his partner to Mr Darcy, and then to ask Julia Metcalfe to dance.
This routine repeated itself, with Darcy dancing with a lady and then immediately being introduced to another when he returned the first lady to her companion.
And during every dance, Elizabeth was partnered with someone due to the efforts of Mrs Tessier and Henry’s friends.
They often passed one another or crossed hands, but Elizabeth never raised her eyes to him, let alone spoke.
More than anything, he wanted to dance with Elizabeth, if only to show that he did not resent her, and assure her he would not force any unwanted attention on her.
Unless his asking her to dance was unwanted attention and she found him intolerable company?
What was the proper way to interact with the woman you respected more for having refused you?