“Sir, I have worked with horses since I was a wee lad. I know the horse was the same. Had a wide blaze down his nose that covered one eye, which was blue. He’s also a tall one—at least sixteen hands—with a white sock and hoof on the front left leg.”
His driver could not be mistaken with such a detailed accounting of the mount. “Very well, I know not of what I can do at the moment, but I want to know if this continues. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you for informing me so swiftly.”
Kirby gave a bow and climbed back atop his spot as Darcy returned to Elizabeth. The butler awaited them at the door, so he offered his betrothed his arm and followed the butler to the drawing room where all in attendance stood. When had this become a family affair?
Bingley stepped forward with a joyous countenance. “Miss Elizabeth, no, you are Miss Bennet at the moment! I am pleased to see you again. I hope you are well.”
Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and danced in amusement. “I am, thank you.”
“And your family?” Darcy suppressed a roll of his eyes as Bingley rolled up and down on his toes. Bingley was the only person he knew who bounced when he was cheerful.
“They were well when I departed Longbourn three days ago. I was pleased to hear of your betrothal. I wish you great joy.”
“You are very kind.” He started. “Oh! But you have not met my betrothed, have you? I thought I noticed you at the ball, but by the time I was certain it was you, I fear we could not break away to greet you.”
“Do not trouble yourself, Mr. Bingley. Never have I been in such a crowded ballroom. It is a wonder the guests were able to find their friends much less speak to them.”
“But you happened upon Darcy.” He drew a young lady to his side. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, may I present my betrothed, Miss Anne de Bourgh.”
Anne stepped forward, without any of the usual formalities, and embraced Elizabeth, whose arms remained outstretched as she gaped at Darcy. “I am thrilled to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet.” She drew back but clasped her hands before her. “Forgive me. I am not typically so forward, but you must understand. Just this morning, my aunt informed me of your understanding with Fitzwilliam, and I could not be more satisfied by the announcement. I do not know if you are aware, but with the exception of a season in town, my mother has insisted Fitzwilliam and I were to marry. Your betrothal means Charles and I have less of an argument with her over ours.”
Elizabeth glanced from Bingley to him. “I thought Lord Fitzwilliam’s permission for your marriage ended your mother’s wish.”
Anne gave a laugh. “You have never met my mother, have you? She will campaign for my uncle to call off our wedding until the vicar pronounces us husband and wife. Your understanding with Fitzwilliam, however, removes some of her ire from us.”
The pink faded from Elizabeth’s cheeks. “I am glad we could be of assistance.”
The door opened, and Georgiana hastened towards their group. “I hope I am not late.” She peered at Anne. “You have not done what you said you would at breakfast this morning?”
“Why should I not?” Anne held her chin a little higher than was her wont, making her resemble her mother more than she would prefer.
Georgiana crossed her arms over her chest with an amusing huff. “We are pleased for their betrothal for better reasons than yours.”
Loud voices came from the hall, prompting them all to turn as his Aunt Charlotte and Uncle William entered with Lady Catherine.
Lady Catherine halted upon her notice of Elizabeth and raised her cane. “And who is this upstart?”
Darcy pulled his arm closer in an attempt to draw Elizabeth nearer to him. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh, may I present my betrothed, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
His imperious aunt walked forward, her cane thudding with each step. “You are to wed Anne.”
“Mother, no more! Uncle has signed the marriage settlement and the official announcement will appear in tomorrow’s paper. I shall be Mrs. Charles Bingley this season whether you approve or not.”
Lady Catherine’s cane struck the floor. “Such insolence! And from my own flesh and blood! I have told you on repeated occasions, including the ball, that I shall never sanction this marriage. Are the shades of Rosings to be polluted by a tradesman?”
Anne stepped closer Bingley. “Then perhaps you would prefer to reside in the dower house.”
A shrill whistle came from Lady Catherine as she sucked air between her teeth. “You would not dare!”
“Charles and I do not wish to spend our days listening to your diatribes. If you cannot accept our marriage or even my cousin’s betrothal to Miss Bennet, then I shall see you removed from Rosings.”
“It is her right, Catherine.” The resonant voice of his uncle carried with ease through the large room. “Rosings has belonged to Anne for the last two years. She may do as she desires. Many women are moved to the dower cottages without choice, yet Anne allows you to decide where you will live. If you find yourself unhappily installed in Rose Cottage, you will have no one to blame but yourself.”
His obstinate aunt straightened her spine as her eyes moved from her brother, to him, to Elizabeth, to Anne, and finally to Bingley where they narrowed. She gave a huff and dropped into the nearest chair.
“Do you have nothing to say?” asked Anne in an incredulous voice.
“You do not desire me to speak my mind, so I shall not say another word.”
Anne rolled her eyes, and Bingley whispered, “If only we could be so fortunate.”
A stifled laugh came from Darcy, and he gulped in an attempt not to make a sound as Anne swatted her betrothed’s arm with her fan. They were indeed fortunate that Lady Catherine gave no indication she heard his remark.
Maids began to deliver the tea service, so Darcy sat upon the sofa with Elizabeth between himself and Georgiana. With the exception of a quiet and resentful Lady Catherine, his family took a great interest in Elizabeth, enquiring of her preferences and her family. None of their interactions were forced or stilted as Elizabeth was accepted as a part of the Fitzwilliam clan.
That evening, once Darcy had returned his betrothed to Gracechurch Street, he poured a glass of brandy, sat at his desk to review the day’s correspondence, and allowed his mind to wander to the day’s conversations.
Elizabeth did her best to become acquainted with all present, in particular Georgiana, who observed Elizabeth with a rapt fascination and attempted to make conversation with his betrothed at every opportunity. In the meantime, Elizabeth managed, with grace, to give his sister as much attention as she could without being rude to the remainder of his family, which was gratifying.
A rap at the door prompted him to jolt from where he stared at the fire. “Enter.”
Without ceremony, Richard strode through the entry, swinging it closed behind him, and made his way to the liquor tray. “I have had a devil of a day, Darce! You have no idea how I would have preferred to sit around in my mother’s drawing room and sip tea rather than deal with miscreants.”
Darcy took a long drink from his glass. “What are you blathering on about?”
“When I returned to London but a few days after you, I ensured Wickham was transferred to a regiment nearer town. A few pounds in the right palms, and I not only had his commission transferred to the regulars, but also had him leaving for the continent in January.”
The chair squeaked as Darcy sat forward. “I shall reimburse you the expense.”
Richard swallowed and stared into his glass. “I daresay you will since I have not told you all yet.”
Darcy lifted his eyebrows.
Richard downed the rest of his brandy, swore, and stood to refill his glass. “The unit to which Wickham is now assigned is comprised of troops in training to be sent forward, locate enemy camps, and fire upon them.”
His blood ran cold. “You intend for him to be killed in battle.”
“He deserves it and do not dare tel
l me he does not. I wanted to call him out at Ramsgate, but you prevented it for fear of damaging Georgiana’s reputation beyond repair. In hindsight, you were correct, but I want the bastard to pay!” He had not poured more than a gulp that was downed in a swift movement before the glass was hurled into the fire. The flames bloomed from the remnants of the alcohol on the glass and then steadied.
“I want retribution as well.” Darcy’s tone was calm and steady. Richard could not be inflamed more than he was already. “I know this is not as calculated as murder, but in some way, it feels the same. He was my father’s godson. We were raised—”
With a violent movement, Richard’s arm shot out as he pointed. “Do not get sentimental! Do not! I can guarantee he has no affection or loyalty towards you. He has proven he would do anything to revenge himself upon you and claim any Darcy money he can get his thieving hands upon.” The crystal decanter clinked against the glass as he filled another to the top.
“I know.” Darcy put the heels of his hands to his eyes. His head was beginning to throb. “I just worry.”
“You fret like a woman.” He bared his teeth as he swallowed. “You also expressed concern about Wickham in such proximity to the Bennet family—a valid consideration with five daughters, I might add. Now that you are betrothed to Miss Bennet, Wickham would make sport of them just to hurt you.”
“Has he been removed from Hertfordshire yet?” The thought of Wickham using his evil to harm him through the Bennets was not new. He needed the blackguard away from Meryton before the announcement of his betrothal made the papers.
“Wickham journeyed to London yesterday, reported to his new commander, and has since disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
Richard gave a mirthless laugh. “Wickham always was chicken-hearted. I would wager he learnt what his new assignment entailed and took French leave.”
“You believe he deserted?”
“He was given no time away and his new commander has no tolerance for such behaviour. As it has only been a few days, I received a note from his commanding officer this morning. His desertion will be official if Wickham does not appear before tomorrow morning.” His cousin raised his eyebrows with a hint of a wicked smile upon his lips. “Do you want to know the best part?
“I want you to tell me all, so yes.” Why did Richard ask such exasperating questions?
“One of the officers with whom Wickham shared quarters was missing a substantial amount of money after Wickham’s disappearance.”
Darcy shifted forward. “How much?”
“Almost fifty pounds, it seems. Lieutenant Denny had saved part of the money, but had also had a lucky night at cards as well. It is believed Wickham stole the funds to facilitate his departure.”
A knock startled them. Darcy took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Enter.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the butler as he entered, “but one of Lord Fitzwilliam’s footmen, a Matthew Thacker, has appeared at the servant’s entrance. He claims Colonel Fitzwilliam expects him.”
Richard nodded as he gulped down his last mouthful of brandy. “Yes, please bring him up.”
“What is this?”
“Matthew came to me after the ball with information he happened to overhear. I thought you should know and asked him to meet me here this evening.”
“You could have simply forwarded what he heard. Did you think I would not trust you?”
“It is not a matter of trust, but that Matthew can give a first-hand account should you have questions.”
A skinny young man still dressed in his livery was ushered into the room, and the door closed behind him. With a bob at Richard, he shifted his hat in his hands. “Sir, I came right on the hour, just as you said.”
Darcy stood, walked around his desk, and leaned back upon it. “I understand you overheard gossip of me. I assume it must be damaging for my cousin to have you excused from work to come here.”
“’Twas no rumour, sir.”
No rumour? Darcy folded his arms over his chest. “Nevertheless, please tell me what you witnessed.”
He looked between Richard and Darcy and cleared his throat. “As the last of the guests were leaving Lady Fitzwilliam’s ball, I waited behind the servant’s entrance to the front hall. Mr. Wilson had told me to go through and gather punch cups and wine glasses, but he was adamant I not enter the hall until all the guests had left. As I stood there, a lady and her daughter were putting on their coats and hats while they awaited the rest of their party.
“The young miss was whining because her mother promised her something—well, promised her you. She heard or was introduced to your betrothed during the ball and was right angry you weren’t to marry her.”
He was going to beat Richard. Incidents such as this were not unexpected, so why would he drag this young man to his home to recount idle chatter.
Richard held out his glass. “Just wait, Darcy. There is more.”
“As I recall,” continued Matthew, “the mother said, ‘Mr. Darcy may be betrothed, but he is not married yet. We shall rid Mr. Darcy and ourselves of the little bunter.’
“I peeked through the door to see the daughter grin. She said, ‘I can see to it he rips my gown at an opportune moment.’
“Her mother did not seem to like that idea. I believe her words were ‘We shall not sully your reputation to win him—such methods may not bring us the success you desire, but leave you ruined. I believe Mr. Darcy to be one of those men who would leave your reputation in tatters should you succeed in your attempt. I have other ideas.’”
Richard’s eyebrows lifted. “What do you think?”
“To be honest, I am unsure.” He looked to Matthew. “Can you describe the young lady?”
“She had brown hair. Her gown was white but had a…” He gestured down his sides with his forehead furrowed. “Slight fabric in blue covering the white. You could see the white through the blue. I do not understand women’s fashions. I am no abigail.”
Darcy set his hands before him on the desk and looked to Richard. “He means an overlay, but how many ladies attended the ball in a similar gown?”
Richard shrugged. “Or had brown hair?”
“I don’t often work above stairs, so I don’t know the guests by name. I also didn’t see the mother’s face. I’m sorry.”
The young man’s slight body shook when Richard clapped him on the shoulder. “Do not distress yourself. We may not know the identity of the ladies, but we have some warning of their intentions. You have helped us immensely.”
Darcy withdrew a sovereign from his pocket and passed it to Matthew, whose eyes widened upon seeing the reward. “If you hear anything further, please tell the colonel or you can come to Darcy House to inform me. Do you understand?”
“Thank you, sir!”
Richard spoke in a softer voice as he escorted Matthew out of the door. Once they had their privacy once again, he retrieved his glass from the mantelpiece. “What do you think?”
“It could be naught but an angry mama venting her frustration.”
Richard plopped into a chair by the fire and adjusted his sabre at his side. “You cannot deny that it might be a valid concern.”
“It is unfortunate Matthew did not know the identity of the ladies.”
“He is young and not of a similar height to the rest of the footmen. At dinners, Wilson uses footmen of similar height so they appear uniform as they stand along the wall. Matthew polishes a great deal of silver or is stationed in the corridors when needed. He is not amongst company often.”
Richard took a drink from his glass. “How do you intend to proceed?”
“Not much can be done unless they act.” He gave a shuffling kick to the floor in front of him. “Women of the ton scheme and brag about who they intend to wed or ruin, yet it is not commonplace to hear of one of these machinations amounting to anything. I doubt we have cause for concern. We must wait and hope their threats are no more than idle
words.”
“I do not like to wait,” groused Richard.
He could not blame his cousin. Waiting was never something Darcy did well, and a threat to Elizabeth riled every bit of him to act. But what could one do when the threat may not be legitimate and the identity of the ladies was unknown? He took a burning gulp of his own brandy.
“Do you intend to tell Elizabeth?”
“No, I am certain it is idle talk. I see no reason to spoil this time by speaking of a circumstance I doubt will take place.”
Richard cocked his head to one side as his eyebrows rose to near his hairline. “I hope you are correct, cousin.”
Darcy studied the pattern on the carpet below. “I hope so, too.”
Chapter 20
December 14th 1811
Longbourn
My dear Lizzy,
I do not have the words to express my happiness at the news of your betrothal. Mama has not ceased offering your praises since Mr. Darcy’s arrival this very morning. She is ecstatic and speaks of nothing but the pin money, the jewels, and the gowns you will have. Her priorities are misguided, but she is proud of you, which must be gratifying. She ordered the carriage readied as soon as Mr. Darcy set foot in Papa’s library, and I venture the entire neighbourhood will be aware of your betrothal by luncheon if she has her way.
Dearest Elizabeth, I want you to know I hope and pray for your joy with as much fervour as Mama’s gossip. I may not be as vocal as my mother, but it does not diminish my feelings on the matter. I am ecstatic for you. You desired a marriage based on love, and your dream will be fulfilled. I can think of no better way to ensure happiness in your future life.
In light of your betrothal, I must make a confession, so you do not feel you must protect me from future encounters with Mr. Bingley. If asked when Mr. Bingley first departed, I might have claimed his return to the neighbourhood with his new wife would bring me pain, yet his name does not disturb me as it ought—not if I truly cared for him as I once believed. Since you departed Longbourn, I have had time to think and realize that neither the mention of his name nor the thought of his appearance bring me so much as an ache in my chest. His notice flattered me, but I was not attached. Please believe me sincere in this matter as I would not wish for such a trivial matter to prevent us from being in company in the future.
Particular Intentions Page 19