Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
When the maid folded back her shutters in the morning, she started to find Elizabeth getting dressed.
“But ma’am, you had such a fall! Mrs Tessier was certain you would stay in bed.”
Mrs Tessier could have said that, but she would change her mind as soon as someone suggested Elizabeth must get up.
No wonder Lady Catherine was her friend.
Elizabeth felt sore across her back, and she had a bruise on her arm from where she hit the carriage roof before her inelegant tumble.
But she would not lounge in her room where there was no chance of seeing Darcy.
Besides, surely it was better to move and stretch her muscles.
“I will rest in the library today and be sure to have lots of willow bark tea.”
The maid helped her carry her workbasket to the library, insisting that Elizabeth manage the stairs carefully. The coachman had carried her up yesterday, even though she had insisted she could walk on her own. Nothing was broken; she was only sore, and rather embarrassed by all the fuss.
She tried to read, but her mind went back to Darcy creeping into her room last night. Could she have convinced him to stay a little longer? Whatever fevered, curious imagining she had of him stretched out atop her paled to actually lying beside him and feeling his hands on her.
A few days with Darcy, seeing his improved behaviour, and seeing him for what he had always been, was sufficient for making her acquainted with her own heart.
She made rapid progress, her parents might say, but she had acknowledged the whole truth of it in her letter to them.
Her own declarations of love for Darcy and all of his own merits would make it impossible for her father to refuse.
Only a few more days until she could bring Darcy to Longbourn to await their wedding, when they could finally show one another all the raptures and fondness they were capable of.
Elizabeth was on a sofa with her book and breakfast, lost in reveries, when Julia Metcalfe marched in. She hoped she gave every outward appearance of reading and not enjoying a daydream about Darcy satisfying a very base desire that had been building for days.
“What hold do you have over Mr Darcy?” she demanded.
It was only ten. She had never seen Julia awake this early. She was dressed as finely as always, but Elizabeth thought she looked a little wan. Perhaps that was from never seeing the sun so early in the day.
Julia stormed up to her, hands on her hips. “He is fixed on you,” she said, pointing, “but a man with his connexions and wealth would never marry so far beneath himself.”
Julia was right to doubt. Darcy had even fought against his own feelings and inclinations, but now he would say they were equals. He had a cherished opinion of her worth, and his affection for her had nothing to do with things like the rank, money, and beauty like Julia possessed.
“If you are certain Mr Darcy could never marry me, why are you concerned?”
She hesitated for a moment, and Elizabeth held back her smile at Julia’s frustration. “I am here to find a husband, Miss Bennet, and for some reason, that man is more concerned that you lost your balance than in anything I have to offer.”
“Perhaps you ought to consider some of the other men here for the races. There is no want of options—”
“I have chosen Mr Darcy,” she insisted, as though she was ordering an item from a shopkeeper and expected it to be handed to her.
It was not a little that would have satisfied her, for Julia wanted to find respectable birth, distinguished talents, lofty fortune, and accomplished manners united in one young single man.
And someone residing in the same house to make late-night encounters more likely.
Darcy suited all her objectives, but he could never care a whit about Julia Metcalfe.
“If Mr Darcy is not as…willing as you are, why pursue him?”
“I need to marry, Miss Bennet,” she said, with a little stamp of her foot that must be a leftover habit from her younger days of getting what she wanted.
“Mr Darcy has all I require, and it does not hurt that he is handsome. And my other option is Sir John,” she said with a sneer, “and he is a rogue.”
Should she tell her that Sir John had admitted to “Bennet” that he wanted a wealthier and less noble woman than Julia? Staying silent might shift Julia’s attention from Darcy to Sir John, but it would be unkind. It would be something Julia would do.
“You would not like the things Sir John said about us,” she said gently. “He would bed either of us if we were interested, but we are both too poor for him to marry. He wants to marry a little lower to someone with a grand fortune.”
Julia’s eyes blazed. She would use any means to secure a quick match with a rich man, yet she was indignant that Sir John intended to marry for money and did not want her at all?
Julia was a woman who had to be first with any man she desired.
“Then I need to try harder with Mr Darcy, so you had better not encourage him.”
Elizabeth huffed as a door opened and Lady Metcalfe strode in. “There you are. I am glad to see you up and about, my dear.”
It took Elizabeth a moment to realise she meant Julia for being up before noon and not Elizabeth after being tossed off a carriage.
“I am well enough to go to the ordinary with the others,” said Julia. “Mr Darcy will be there, and then they will all go to the races. If I join the meal, I have more of a chance to convince him he wants to marry a tall blonde with five thousand pounds and respectable connexions.”
The implication being Darcy could never want a woman of middling height with fifty pounds and uncles in trade. Elizabeth busied herself with putting a ribbon in her book and straightened her blanket, hiding a smile. Now would not be a good time to mention Darcy’s plans for the day.
“You had best make progress with him,” insisted her mother.
“You did not cast your net wide as I suggested, so you had better be certain you can pull this one in.” Lady Metcalfe sat and sighed.
“I wish you would consider other options, Julia. Mr Darcy hardly speaks. I do not think he can be pleased.”
“I do not need him to speak! I need his name.”
“He does not want abilities,” said Elizabeth, hating to hear him spoken of in such a way. “He can be a conversable companion—if he thinks it is worth his while.”
Julia turned to her mother. “Why could she not be confined to her room? You should never have brought her, Mamma!”
“My time and talents are considered Lady Catherine’s property,” she said wearily.
“You could do more to help me secure him, since you agreed to bring her. Do you even want to see me married to Mr Darcy?”
Lady Metcalfe returned this with a stony look of her own.
“It is in my best interest to see you wed, young lady. If Mr Darcy takes you, I will fall on his neck with gratitude. And I will have to remove to Pemberley with you because I could never face Lady Catherine again.” After another glare at her daughter, who crossed her arms, she said to Elizabeth, “Rest, Miss Bennet, and we will see you this evening.”
She left, and when the door closed behind her, Julia said, “If I had my way, I would better leave you to find your own level! Whatever he might do with you in the dark, he would never marry a woman like you.”
“What is the hurry to marry?” Elizabeth asked with genuine wonder.
“Your two sisters will be out, but that does not mean you will never find someone. And you have a brother who will give you a home. There are five of us daughters, all out, and my sister is about your age and just got engaged. You are not too old at all. Besides, most men want a woman who is far from being a na?ve child.” Her mind passed over Wickham and Georgiana Darcy, and her stomach turned.
Any decent man, anyway. “And an older man is surer of himself, so what about Mr Travers, since you are in a hurry? Your mother approves of him.”
Julia scowled. “Stop talking about things of which you know nothing.”
Another door opened, and Sir John entered. “There you are,” he cried agreeably. “Such pictures of beauty.”
Elizabeth had nothing in common with Julia, but they both frowned at the insincere greeting.
“Miss Bennet, congratulations on feeling better. The Tessiers have ordered the carriages, Miss Metcalfe. We will leave for the downs in half an hour. I understand Mr Travers will meet us there. He left early to see the horses, little good it seems to do him this week. The turf has not been kind to him,” he added with a careless laugh.
“I have no interest in Mr Travers’s losses. Where is Mr Darcy?”
Sir John’s eyes widened and a grin burst from his lips. “My, my, no longer subtle. Soon you will offer to carry his candle to bed and see if he invites you in.”
It was a crass statement to make to a lady, but Elizabeth thought it might be true.
Julia gave Sir John a frosty glare. “I do not know what you mean.”
“Of course,” he said, bowing, “forgive me. I have not seen Darcy today. Perhaps he rode early with Mr Travers again. But if you ever want to darken my door—”
“I do not. I am interested in a respectable establishment,” Julia insisted. She turned to Elizabeth with narrowed eyes. “Is Mr Darcy staying behind with you?”
She could not lie and deny that he had any reason to stay with her. “I could not say how Mr Darcy intends to spend his day. He is his own man.”
“Not if Miss Metcalfe has her way,” muttered Sir John.
Julia looked ready to shriek, but then she tamped out her simmering rage and stormed off. Sir John laughed to himself then gave Elizabeth a perfunctory bow and wished her continued good health.