Chapter 5 #4
In an instant, they passed the finishing post, and it was over.
The crowd surged around her as many ran toward the finishing post to see who won.
There was a starting chair for the officials, but it was far too noisy to hear him from where she was.
Darcy dropped the pretence that she was a man and held on to her arm, carefully guiding her out of the throng hurtling to see the winner.
“I am sorry to say your horse was in the distance,” he said. “I do not think it even made second.”
Elizabeth grinned. “I do not care. It was thrilling to watch!” It made her curious to learn how to ride herself. There seemed to be so much freedom and energy in riding that she had never appreciated before.
“Did you enjoy your day, Bennet?”
“It was marvellous!” Not even coarse Sir John could have spoiled it.
She got to wear breeches and drink ale and wager on a horse race.
And she spent the entire day with Darcy.
She was extremely happy to have so much time with him, and equally as happy that he seemed to enjoy her company just as much.
It was almost enough to allow her to hope his affections and wishes from April were still unshaken.
By tacit agreement, they left, having seen the amusements around the course. They were leaving Epsom Downs when a voice called after them.
“Heyday, Mr Darcy!” Henry trotted to catch up to them, then stopped short at the sight of her. “Miss Bennet! So you made use of the clothes, after all?”
“Do I have you to thank for my clothes? Mrs Tessier did not say where she found them for me and Miss Metcalfe.”
She could tell it was a superior suit of clothes. Henry dressed in a rather showy way. He was a sharp contrast to Darcy, whose style seemed to focus more on tailoring than parade. Darcy’s clothes showed his body. Henry’s body showed his clothes.
“Indeed. I was about to compliment Mr Darcy’s friend on his fine waistcoat and say I had one of the same cloth two years ago. Did Miss Metcalfe join you?”
His voice lifted, and she wished Henry had no hopes there.
“No, and she has missed out. A masquerade could not have been more enjoyable.” How strange that worldly Sir John had not recognised her even when they had a conversation and na?ve Henry noticed her from ten yards away.
Or perhaps his eye was purely drawn to fashionable clothes.
“Shall you continue the ruse? Do you need to borrow my evening dress?” he asked with a laugh. “I have grown in the last year, but I might have black breeches that fit you. They are from Weston’s,” he said with an eye to Darcy for his approval.
“I am afraid it is time for me to return to gowns, although I will miss being able to run about so easily.”
Darcy and Henry talked conversationally about tailors on the walk back, and it occurred to Elizabeth that once she was wearing a gown again, she could not so easily be alone with Darcy.
It was a delightful day, and being with Darcy had more to do with it than the clothes or the crowds.
It would be difficult to look Sir John in the eye, but losing Darcy’s exclusive company would be harder to bear.
At dinner, Mrs Tessier announced she had invited a large party to spend the evening with them.
Such was the social interaction common during a race meeting, but Elizabeth felt weary of it.
They would gamble high, or play more games where Darcy would avoid kissing her.
The hope that he considered kissing her someday should have consoled her, but it could not comfort a woman who wanted to be thoroughly kissed now.
“What a good thing to have more company—for some of us,” said Julia Metcalfe after the first remove. “More men with us in the evening would be a good thing for Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Her friends are rather desperate to see her wed.”
Elizabeth paused in bringing her glass to her lips. “I have no complaints about the company at Woodcote.”
“But you have been wanting to get a husband. That is why Lady Catherine sent you amongst noble company. And there are thousands of men here at Epsom, so even you have a chance.” Turning to Darcy, she said, “Your aunt is a kind woman.” To Elizabeth, she added, “Evidently no one has wanted you before, and your lack of fortune and connexions must hurt you. Perhaps someone at Epsom will humble themselves to take you. I wish you luck.”
Elizabeth set down her glass with a clang and was about to rejoin about Julia’s single status and desperate need to make a match before her younger sisters came out, but exhaled instead.
She was a kind person; Julia was not. Julia was as often offended as pleased, but her hatred was more vehement and lasting than her benevolence. She could not make an enemy of her.
She might not want to cross Julia or embarrass her hostess with a scene, but she did not want to spend an evening with them either.
But if she claimed a headache and left, Julia would see it as a triumph.
Both her and her mother would be glad for Julia to have time to flirt with Darcy, blind though they both were to his complete indifference.
Elizabeth had a charming day with Darcy, but her evening would pass slowly.
She watched him across the dinner table when she was certain his gaze was elsewhere.
She would miss him when the race meeting was over.
Being with him was the best part of being at Woodcote.
But what would happen at the end of the week?
A wave of heat and a flutter of anticipation hit her whenever she talked with Darcy.
What did they feel for one another a month after he proposed and was rejected?
She could no longer pretend what she felt for him now was anything other than love.
It was not a sudden gust of passion brought on by their proximity.
There was a mutual confidence between them now that had grown into affection on her side.
She knew Darcy’s value, and could say with all sincerity that he had inspired her heart with love.
He had an unaffected goodness and a respectable character.
He could laugh, and she felt a friendship for him along with a deepening desire.
But what could she infer from his insistence on only kissing her outside of a game’s forfeits? Not enough to satisfy her. She did not know how to bring on a renewal of his addresses, but her heart whispered he might still love her enough to marry her.