Particular Intentions

by L. L. Diamond

  He lifted his head, turned over her hand, and kissed her palm. “Why did we set a date six weeks hence?”

  “So as not to take away from Mr. Bingley’s wedding to Anne.” Elizabeth rose to her feet as she placed a kiss upon his forehead.

  After a glance at the door, he pulled her forward into an embrace and rested his forehead against her belly. “We could have set a date prior to theirs.” His tone was a bit petulant.

  “For shame, Fitzwilliam. After the length of time they have been betrothed, they deserve the right to be wed first.” She peered through the door. “We cannot let my aunt find us thus.” Her palm rested upon his cheek with her thumb stroking his temple as he sighed.

  “I know, but I wanted to touch you. I miss our walks… and Miss Bennet as a chaperon.”

  She bent and pressed her face into his locks to bestow one last kiss. My, but he smelled divine. His cologne was like Longbourn’s kitchen at Christmas, smelling of nutmeg and cloves. Her father wore scents with tones of evergreens and cedar, which never appealed, but when Fitzwilliam placed his topcoat upon her shoulders at the ball, she had to resist the urge to never give it back.

  As it would appear ridiculous to remain with her face in Fitzwilliam’s hair, she kissed him and straightened. A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

  “My aunt is standing outside of the door with her back to us.”

  His laugh vibrated against her flesh. “We now know where Miss Bennet acquired her chaperon skills.” He released her and ran his fingers through his rich brown curls. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” She leaned back. “Aunt, will you not join us?”

  As her aunt bustled to her usual seat, she lifted her eyebrows to Elizabeth. “I would have entered in a moment.” She retrieved her needlework. “Lady Fitzwilliam has proposed an outing for us ladies in order to purchase a trousseau for you, Elizabeth, and Miss de Bourgh.”

  “Did my aunt mention a date?”

  “No, she needed to speak with Miss de Bourgh, but as she has yet to make an appointment with Madame Guiard, I would speculate after Christmas.”

  Fitzwilliam adjusted his jacket. “My aunt has been busy as of late. She may have forgotten Christmas is next week.”

  Elizabeth peered at the clock. “I promised the children a story before dinner.”

  As she rose, Fitzwilliam stood as well. “I should be leaving.”

  “You just arrived. Can you not spend the evening with us?” She looked to her aunt. “He is welcome at dinner, is he not?”

  “You are very welcome to dine with us this evening, Mr. Darcy.”

  He picked up his hat and gloves. “I regret that I cannot. While you promised the children a story, I promised Georgiana my company this evening. I have no desire to disappoint her, though she would, no doubt, understand.”

  Aunt Gardiner set aside her embroidery and stood. “Please know that you are always welcome.”

  “I thank you, Mrs. Gardiner.”

  Elizabeth took Fitzwilliam’s proffered arm. “May I walk Mr. Darcy to the door?”

  With a nod, her aunt gave an indulgent smile. “Yes, you may.”

  Fitzwilliam stopped and faced her when they reached the front hall. “I have some early morning business, but I shall call after it is completed.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “We have had rather mild weather for autumn. If the day is fine, would your aunt permit us to take a walk in the park?”

  “She might require a maid to accompany us, or the children, but I shall ask this evening.”

  He brushed his lips across her knuckles. “How I wish I could take you home with me.”

  After a quick glance around the room, she lifted to her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered into his ear. “I desire the same, but the day will come.”

  His hands slid around her waist as he held her close and buried his face in her neck. His warm breath fanned against the exposed skin; she closed her eyes at the prickling sensation and heat that overspread her body.

  She indulged herself but a moment, taking one last deep inhale of his scent before she withdrew. “Any of the family or the servants could enter.”

  “And I must go before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the carriage.” He opened the door, but turned when he stepped outside. “Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

  His low voice caressed her without a touch; she shivered.

  “Goodnight, Fitzwilliam.”

  Chapter 21

  Without ceremony, Richard walked through the door of Darcy’s study, threw it closed with a careless motion, and dropped into a chair before Darcy’s desk. “What do you mean summoning me at all hours of the night?”

  Darcy glanced at the clock upon the mantel. Half seven was an early morning for his cousin, which explained his foul temper. “I sent a message at ten—not late when one considers your usual habits. I had no response, so I sent another note this morning as I consider the matter to be of some import.” He opened the door. “Jobbins, would you see to it coffee is brought to us, please?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Once they again had privacy, Richard dropped his head back into the cushion of the seat. “So what has your feathers in a dither?”

  He strode to his desk, picked up a letter, and thrust it in Richard’s face. “This arrived yesterday while I was calling on Elizabeth.”

  “A piece of paper seems rather innocuous to me.”

  “Yet you know I would not send for you without reason. Blast! Stop being a right bastard and read it!”

  Richard rubbed his eyes with a growl. “You do not have to yell, Darce.”

  “You should not have been in your altitudes last night, else you would not be in such a terrible temper.”

  “I thought to see what sort of mettle your friend Bingley is made of. I would not have thought the cub could drink so much and remain standing.”

  Darcy took his seat as he chuckled. “Simple. He did not consume all you gave him.”

  Sitting up straight, Richard stared hard at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Since Bingley began moving in society, some gentlemen thought it a great joke to put him in his cups. They would purchase the liquor and then entice him to gamble; however, such schemes were first tried at Cambridge, and Bingley learnt after a few bad evenings how to avoid the trap without giving offence.”

  “Why would he give offence?”

  “Because the peers and other young men would purchase his brandy or port. Bingley refused once, and a viscount thrashed him for it. After that evening, he learned to use distractions to his favour. When the barmaid came around, he would pour his glass into theirs, at times even splitting the contents between more than one glass.” With a chuckle, Darcy placed his forearms upon the desk and leaned forward. “How were you distracted last night?”

  Richard made a fist and struck the arm of his chair. “Milton kept pestering me about going to White’s.” His jaw dropped. “I shall horse whip him next I see him! He knew!”

  Darcy grinned. “Why would you think so?”

  “When I refilled Bingley’s glass, Milton laughed like one of those blasted hyenas at the Royal Menagerie. I was duped!”

  “I shall make a bargain with you, Richard. You read that letter, and I shall help you get revenge.”

  “What sort of revenge?”

  He lifted his shoulder. “We do not want to exact any sort of retribution so soon after their fun. We have time to consider a plan to execute when they least expect it.”

  After a light rap, a maid entered with the coffee, which was placed on a clear side of the desk before she departed with haste.

  “You know, I would read this regardless,” his cousin confessed, holding the letter between his fingers.”

  “I do, but I have a bit of a grudge to settle with Bingley after his behaviour in Meryton. If he had been more circumspect, he would not have caused such a rift with Elizabeth.”

 
; Richard scratched his stubbly chin and nodded. “While Bingley did not intend any harm, I can understand your desire to enact a little revenge.”

  “Good! Since we have settled your issues, would you read the correspondence!”

  Darcy poured his cousin a cup of coffee and set it on the edge of the desk as Richard unfolded the paper, pulled it back and then forwards before he settled to reading; however, before Darcy could pour his own cup, his cousin was out of his seat and pacing.

  “That shit sack!”

  “Thank heavens your mother was not here to hear that appellation.”

  “Wickham is not worth the flesh that binds him together. When did you say you received this?”

  “It arrived yesterday while I was calling at Gracechurch Street.”

  “Did Jobbins have a description of who delivered it?”

  “The letter was mixed in with the post.”

  “He did that on purpose. A messenger or delivering it himself would have simplified our efforts to locate him, but sending it through the post makes it nigh on impossible. We can see by the mark where it was posted, but I find it unlikely he sent it from the closest post station.”

  Darcy blew the scalding liquid. He had no wish to burn his tongue. “We cannot doubt the sincerity of his threat.”

  “No, after what he did to Georgiana, I would believe his every vicious word. The best way to rid ourselves of this blighter is to have him sent to the gallows, but a life of conscription or transportation is a tolerable substitute. He must be found and turned over to the army.”

  “I sent a request for a meeting to the Bow Street Runners last night. I do not know if I shall receive a reply as it is Sunday and so close to Christmas, but I hope to by the morrow.”

  “Did your father keep a miniature of Wickham here?”

  “No, but when you mentioned his desertion, I sent to Mrs. Reynolds for the likeness at Pemberley in the event you should require it. I should have it within the week.”

  Richard returned to his chair and sipped his coffee as he stared at the letter. “He makes no direct reference to Georgiana, but I shall alert Father to the threats. I would not underestimate him if I were you. He is angry. We must pray his ire impairs his judgement, and he makes a foolish decision.”

  “He makes mention of you.”

  He gave a bark of a laugh. “Oh yes. ‘No mystery surrounds my sudden transfer to a new regiment. Your cousin, the good colonel, has done your bidding well. I am certain he also desires to have me pay for the affair at Ramsgate, yet I shall give neither of you the satisfaction. Your plans for me will come to naught.’” Richard held the note before him. “Did the idiot not understand that he needed pay for someone to take his position? He also stole a fellow officer’s money. If he is found, he will have consequences.”

  “Wickham has never lacked arrogance. He intends some form of revenge, and I am certain plans to flee the country once he feels he has accomplished his task.”

  Darcy stood and moved to the side of the window. Yes, he was still there; his shadow was discernible, even in the fog. What could he want and for whom did he work? “You should also know I am being followed.”

  Richard’s head shot up with an unusual swiftness considering the amount of brandy he had consumed the night prior. “Who? When?”

  “I know naught. Kirby noticed the horse during the journey across London to retrieve Elizabeth for tea. When we returned to Darcy house that evening, he informed me the man had not only followed us to Clarell House, but also had trailed us home. Since that day, I have noticed him in the square on several occasions.”

  With a leap from the sofa, Richard pushed Darcy from the window. “Is he watching now?”

  “Under the trees on the opposite side of the square.”

  He turned and began to stride by as though he had a purpose, so Darcy placed a hand to his chest. “Where are you going?”

  “To discover what he wants.”

  “No.”

  “No?” Richard’s voice was raised, his tone incredulous.

  “I intend to have the investigators look into him as well. They can discover whether he is alone or whether he is employed by someone.”

  Richard’s hand clenched and struck the palm of the other. “But I can beat it out of him.”

  “If he is working for someone, they would then replace him. No, we wait.”

  A strange growl came from his cousin’s throat as he settled back into his chair. “I do not like to wait.” He grimaced, swallowed, and shifted. “Since you will not let me take care of him, I may as well tell you how Colonel Forster sent a man Thursday to find Wickham.”

  After one last glance outside, Darcy returned to his desk. “Was he seeking money to cover Wickham’s debts?”

  “Wickham left debts of honour with his men, yet I was surprised to learn he owed no money to the local inn or other merchants.”

  “I mentioned Wickham’s gambling habits as well as his usual practices with tradesmen to Mr. Bennet. It seems the discussion he had with Sir William Lucas and their subsequent warning of the local businesses was not in vain.”

  Richard sat back in his chair. “I am impressed. I know you would not endanger Georgiana’s reputation, yet you did not allow him to wreak his usual havoc. I do wonder what prompted this course of action. You have never been so forthcoming.”

  He shifted as his finger found a notch in the solid top of his desk and began to pick at it. “I happened upon Wickham on his first day in Meryton. He was being introduced to Elizabeth and her sisters.”

  At the sound of his cousin’s chortle, Darcy stiffened. “Elizabeth is too intelligent to fall for his schemes, but I could not chance that Wickham would not force himself upon her. There is also the matter of the youngest Bennet girls. They are flighty and immature. The youngest, Lydia is her name, would flirt with any man in a red coat if afforded the opportunity.”

  His cousin’s eyes narrowed. “Were you courting Miss Bennet at that time?”

  “No, I did not ask permission to court her until the week following.”

  “You felt protective of her quite soon in your acquaintance, then. I hope you are aware, she is likely the easiest target when it comes to Wickham’s schemes.”

  With a push up on the arm of his chair, he shifted so he sat straight and rigid. “When I began to admire Elizabeth has no bearing on this conversation. I shall see her protected at all costs, Richard. I was unable to protect Georgiana, for which I shall always bear some responsibility.”

  “You had no way of knowing until Georgiana sent the express that she was in danger.”

  “She should not have been on her own as she was.”

  “No more, Darce. My mother approved, I found naught amiss in the endeavour, and you had no reason to suspect Mrs. Younge. We must put this in the past and concentrate on Wickham’s current threat. Georgiana rarely leaves Clarell House, so she should remain safe. Our primary concern should be to ensure Miss Bennet’s protection.”

  Darcy rubbed the back of his neck. “I have no wish to alarm her or the Gardiners.”

  “You may not want to ruin today with speaking of this, yet it must be done. If you insist on enjoying the day first, tell them after luncheon.” He held the letter aloft. “The announcement was in yesterday’s paper, and Wickham mentions your betrothed. He has knowledge of your relationship with the lady, and you know as well as I do how he will make use of such information.” His cousin tossed the letter upon the desk in a haphazard motion. “Do not underestimate him.”

  He rubbed his eyes. A clock chimed. Why did it sound so far away? His fingers combed through his hair.

  “The carriage will be ready soon. I must leave in order to meet the Gardiners and Elizabeth at St. George’s.”

  “You must tell them.”

  “I know,” he groaned. “I know.”

  Fitzwilliam leaned towards her as he led her from the pew. “Your fingernails do not need to grip my arm so. I shall allow no one to harm you.” Once G
eorgiana took her place on his other side, he stepped forward but did not move.

  With a start, Elizabeth looked ahead where a familiar woman and her daughter stood before him. The muscles under her palm grew taut as his entire body stiffened.

  “Mr. Darcy! We have not been in your company since Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam’s ball. We have received invitations to several Christmas parties and of course the invitation to Viscount Meere’s Twelfth Night masquerade. Do you have plans to attend any of the season’s festivities?”

  The mother smiled in a practiced fashion as the daughter’s eyes ran from Fitzwilliam’s dark curls to his eyes, and on to the span of his broad chest. The nails of Elizabeth’s free hand dug into her palm. How dare she! Fitzwilliam was taken! The prior day’s paper announced their betrothal to the world. Even if these women were unable to read, they were certain to have heard it in the drawing rooms.

  “I shall save you a dance, Mr. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth glared at the tilted head and flirtatious bat of her eyelashes. The vulgar little hussy! Her efforts were brazen indeed and not appreciated.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Darcy,” prattled the mother as she directed her attention to Darcy’s other side. “We met in October, I believe, when Thea and I called on your aunt.”

  Something was not right about Georgiana’s expression, but the girl pulled herself a bit taller. “I do remember, Lady Carlisle.” Her voice had an edge when she answered. “It is agreeable to see you again, Lady Althea.”

  “You must convince your brother to bring you to the Grantleys’ dinner party this week. Mother and I would enjoy the addition of your company.”

  Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. “I do not believe you have made the acquaintance of my betrothed.” He drew Elizabeth forward a step. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, may I present Lady Carlisle and her daughter Lady Althea.”

  The two ladies had not requested an introduction and did not seem best pleased by Fitzwilliam’s initiative. Lady Althea turned to Georgiana. “The Grantleys have such superb parties. You should—“