Particular Intentions

by L. L. Diamond

  “My sister is not yet out, Lady Althea. When she is ready to attend such events, Miss Bennet and I shall decide which functions she attends. Now, if you will excuse us, we have plans for this afternoon. My cook will not forgive us if we are late for luncheon.”

  Lady Carlisle and her daughter eyed Elizabeth, the former giving a disdainful sniff, but upon returning her attention to Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, Lady Carlisle’s unnatural smile returned. “Mr. Darcy, we do hope to have your company soon. Miss Darcy, you must join your aunt the next time she calls at our home.”

  “We must greet Lady Fitzwilliam, Mother.”

  “Oh yes, we must. Please excuse us.”

  With a slight tug, Elizabeth followed Fitzwilliam to the doors of the chapel where Colonel Fitzwilliam awaited them. Aunt and Uncle Gardiner had given her permission to ride in the Darcy carriage after the services, so they wended through the parishioners until they were able to climb inside. The door closed and the equipage lurched forward.

  “The nerve of those women!”

  Elizabeth turned where a visibly angry Georgiana Darcy sat beside her.

  “They snubbed you, Lizzy! Oh! And I noticed that Lady Althea’s eyes roving over my brother.” She shuddered. “If I did not like them when they called at Clarell House, I certainly do not care for them now. They are rude, vulgar—”

  “Georgiana!”

  The colonel burst into laughter. “Do not correct her for speaking her mind. I daresay she learned it from Mother while she has lived with her, and I am glad to see a bit of the old Georgiana returning to us.” He grinned so wide his teeth were on full display. “Besides, I may have been standing near the rear of the church, but I noticed a vibrant green emerge in Miss Bennet’s complexion.”

  Elizabeth jerked her gaze outside of the window. The colonel had noticed her jealousy? How mortifying! The side of her face tingled, so her eyes darted to where Fitzwilliam stared at her with a smug curve to his lips.

  “I, for one, do not blame Lizzy in the slightest. If she followed the conniving harlot’s line of sight, she would have a vast deal of complaints against the so-called lady.”

  “I do not care for your language, Georgiana. You sound of Lady Catherine and not Aunt Charlotte.”

  “Aunt Charlotte would not have countenanced such a display, Fitzwilliam, or did you not notice Lady Althea’s blatant perusal of your lap?”

  The colonel began to cough, turning the colour of a beetroot as the fit continued, while Fitzwilliam’s jaw dropped. “Georgiana!”

  Elizabeth whipped around. “She did not! I saw her look from his hair and across his chest, but never lower.”

  “I had been so nervous the entire service, but forgot my fears when she began to ogle my brother.”

  The colonel’s cough had subsided into a hoarse chuckle. “This is not his first encounter of that nature, but I pity the lady who attempts it in the future. With the looks the two of you gave Lady Althea, the culprit might not survive. I never thought Georgiana would be one to protect your virtue.” He gave a raspy chuckle.

  “Richard, you are being nonsensical.”

  “You did not see your sister’s eyes bulge or your betrothed’s murderous glare. I am just glad Georgiana managed to school her features before Lady Carlisle turned her attention to her.”

  “Brother, how could you not notice?”

  “I ignored her unless I had to respond.” He tugged at his waistcoat. “I have never enjoyed the machinations of ladies like Lady Carlisle and Lady Althea.”

  Elizabeth leaned her temple against the squab. “I never fawned or sought your notice.”

  “No, but I did attempt to keep you at bay during the assembly. Do you remember?” His voice was low and a touch softer. “You did not react in the manner to which I am accustomed. You laughed as though what I said made no difference, yet the look in your eye I could not forget. No malice or avarice lay in their depths—only joy and beauty.”

  The colonel cleared his throat; she started, glancing to Georgiana, who beamed as she looked from her brother to Elizabeth. How could she forget Georgiana and the colonel were present? Her eyes sought Fitzwilliam’s and she held his gaze until the equipage pulled before Darcy House.

  With Fitzwilliam’s aid, Elizabeth stepped to the pavement as she gaped at the pearl white façade before her, ending at the dark wood door with flanking columns. The house was large for London—and the windows! On top of the kitchen and servant’s portion below street level, three floors stood proud and tall before her with five windows glinting in the late morning sun across each of the upper two levels.

  “What do you think?” His heated breath fanned against her ear, and she forced her eyes to remain open and straight-ahead.

  “I think it very handsome. How long has it been in your family?”

  “My grandfather had a substantial windfall from a mining venture about five years prior to his death. This house had just been completed when the new owner’s debts became too much for him to pay and agreed to sell the property to my grandfather for less than the original purchase price.”

  “How lucky for your grandfather.”

  “The man required funds in a desperate way. My grandfather had the money and was prepared to sign the papers quickly. We still possess the home we owned previous to this one, which we now lease. I shall show it to you sometime, if you wish it.”

  “Where did you spend most of your childhood?”

  “In London?”

  She nodded.

  “I was still in short pants when my grandfather purchased this property, so most of my time in London was spent in this home.”

  “Then I would not mind seeing the other house, but I prefer this one.”

  A slight pink tinged his cheeks as his steady gaze held hers.

  “Would the two of you stop cooing at one another and come inside!” Her head shot forward where Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana stood inside the front hall, the colonel beckoning them onward with his outstretched arm. “’Tis cold outside and Jobbins will not close the door until you enter!”

  A sigh came from beside her as Fitzwilliam offered his arm. “Come, before I am tempted to compromise your reputation on the street.”

  She put her palm to her chest and gasped in feigned shock. “I am scandalised, Mr. Darcy. What could you mean by such a statement?”

  “Merely that I am tempted to kiss you when your aunt and uncle’s carriage could arrive at any moment.” A rattling and plodding of horse hooves behind them indicated his equipage pulled away from the kerb.

  Her lips pursed. “My uncle would not be amused.”

  A stiff, austere looking man stood beside the open entry. “Sir, as you requested, Mrs. Rowley has prepared the drawing room and Cook will have luncheon ready to be served in a half hour.”

  “Very good,” responded Fitzwilliam, handing over his hat.

  Elizabeth removed her best white kid leather gloves as a maid stepped before her, and then fumbled with the buttons of her pelisse while she scanned her surroundings.

  Fitzwilliam approached her side, and pointed to a closed door. “My study is through there.” Once the maid curtsied and departed, he escorted her to the side of the stairs and gestured to the next. “The library is not as large as Pemberley, but has a good selection.”

  He led her through a set of double doors to a lovely room decorated in muted shades of blue with white trim. “This is the drawing room, which is where we entertain callers and guests. When it is just Georgiana, Richard, and I, we tend to use the parlour upstairs.

  “Should you wish to redecorate, you need only ask. I desire your comfort when you are in residence with me.”

  Her eyes flitted from one piece of furniture to another as well as the decor. How could any sane person find this wanting? The furniture bespoke of money, yet appeared comfortable. The colours soothed her nerves and were tasteful rather than garish. The overall effect was pleasing rather than uselessly fine.

  “Elizabeth?” />
  She gave his elbow a squeeze. “I have no desire to change even one vase upon a table. The room is perfect as it is.”

  “But perhaps other rooms will require—”

  “Fitzwilliam.” His crystal blue eyes met hers. “I wish to wed you for you. Not to upend your houses or spend your money.”

  “I do know that, but I would have you comfortable.”

  “I shall be.”

  He leaned closer as her aunt and uncle entered. “And they are our homes.”

  Elizabeth set her teacup on the table before her and peered at the other occupants of the room while Georgiana played Handel on the piano. Her aunt, her uncle, and the colonel held a quiet conversation where they were seated near the fire—likely in regards to Georgiana’s mastery of the instrument since they watched her a great deal as they spoke. Fitzwilliam remained near her side.

  His knee tapped hers as he shifted in his seat. “Pardon me,” he whispered.

  She pressed her lips together, restraining her laughter. Poor Fitzwilliam had taken every opportunity to touch her as the day passed. His hand brushed hers as they sat beside one another at luncheon, he offered her his arm for the arduous journey from the dining room to the drawing room, and this was the fourth time in the last hour he had bumped either his hand or his knee against her person.

  The sound of the pianoforte ceased and the compliments of the others returned her attention to the room rather than the tingling sensation of his surreptitious touches. “That was exquisite, Georgiana.”

  Fitzwilliam adjusted and fidgeted with his sleeve. “Well done, indeed.”

  As his sister returned to her music, the sound of the door opening turned her head as Mrs. Rowley entered.

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but I thought now would be a good time for Miss Bennet to view her suite.”

  Elizabeth rose and looked to Aunt Gardiner. “I have no objection. Aunt?”

  “I am certain you are curious, Lizzy. I am amenable to joining you now should you wish it.” Her aunt stepped forward. “Come, Mr. Darcy. Though it may not be the usual practice, I know you are eager to join us.”

  His eyebrows furrowed, yet he followed, his palm pressing the small of her back as they ascended the stairs. “Mrs. Gardiner, how would you know I desired to join you?”

  “My husband and I have been vastly amused at your attempts to touch Lizzy without our knowledge. I made a guess based on your behaviour. Was I incorrect?” Aunt Gardiner continued on as she spoke in a cheerful tone without missing a step.

  Fitzwilliam first blanched, then appeared that of an overgrown child being punished. “I meant no disrespect to your husband, to you, or to Elizabeth.”

  “Though Edward and I have been married for close to ten years, we were once in the same situation. I admit to finding a bit of humour at your expense, but I would not have you uneasy. As far as viewing Lizzy’s future rooms, I see no reason you should not join us. With the presence of a chaperon and your housekeeper, the situation is not scandalous.”

  When the housekeeper ushered them through the door, Elizabeth took a few steps inside the small sitting room and stopped. The furniture was in good repair, though the fabric was worn and faded.

  “These rooms have not been used since my parents’ deaths. They will require work.”

  She pivoted to take in the rest of the décor. “Nothing too terrible. A bit of fabric for the furniture.”

  “Some new draperies,” called her aunt from the window.

  “And perhaps a new carpet for the floor? This one is dark for my tastes.”

  Mrs. Rowley stepped over to the escritoire, uncorked the ink, and made a note on a piece of paper. She did the same with the few alterations for the mistress’ bedchamber while Elizabeth looked in the dressing room, and walked into a small room that housed an enormous copper tub, a chest, and a small cabinet.

  Fitzwilliam stepped around her and leaned against the chest. “Please tell Mrs. Rowley the scents you prefer, so she can have them stocked. We do not keep much in this room, but the chest to store towels and the close stool. My father liked the idea of the pot being concealed, so he purchased one of Mr. Sheraton’s designs for each bedchamber in this house and at Pemberley.”

  “At once?”

  “No, over several years.”

  Why were they discussing chamber pots? With a last glance at him, she returned to the empty bedchamber. Where had her aunt gone?

  Her fingers pulled the sun-damaged fabric aside as she peered into the back garden. Nothing bloomed at present, but if the arbours and the cleared beds were any indication, the view would be quite the colourful palette come spring.

  Two hands snaked around her waist as soft lips pressed where her neck and shoulder met and a shock travelled from the point of his lips through her body. “I cannot go without touching you. Without the presence of another, I have no restraint.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed. “You must find some. My aunt will soon return.”

  His lips grazed up the flesh of her neck until he nuzzled behind her ear. Gooseflesh erupted down her neck and her heart began to flutter madly. How did one remain standing with such sensations coursing through them?

  “Just one taste of your mouth is all I ask.” His words burned her ear, and her resistance crumbled.

  Her head turned so her lips could touch his. It was not enough, so her palm cupped his cheek as she rotated in his arms. His tongue tasted of honeyed brandy and caressed hers like silk. How was she to pull away? Her body revolted at the notion while her fingers found their way under the base of his waistcoat.

  His hand pressed against her backside, drawing her hips against his, as his warmth permeated her flesh. How she wished to cup his rear and squeeze! What would he think of her if she did so? Would he be horrified? No, she could not be so bold.

  “Fitzwilliam.” Her voice sounded so strange and rough, but the thought disappeared as he trailed feather soft kisses along her shoulder. Instead, she smothered a moan into his shoulder.

  The sound of someone clearing their throat penetrated the incessant pounding in her ears, and she propelled back against the wall, her knuckles pressed to her mouth. Fitzwilliam took one long look at her and, without a word, disappeared into the dressing room.

  “Aunt?”

  Aunt Gardiner peeked around the door, and upon noticing Fitzwilliam’s absence, entered. “I thought to give you a moment to hold hands or steal a small kiss. I had no idea you would throw propriety to naught.” Her aunt’s words were firm and her lips in a fine line. “You have weeks until you are wed. Do not give your uncle reason to force march the two of you up the aisle.”

  Her aunt’s gaze narrowed at the base of Elizabeth’s neck. “We must cover that before your uncle sees it.” She removed her fichu and reached for Elizabeth, but Elizabeth ducked around and hurried to the mirror.

  She did not appear much different than the usual. Her eyes were a bit harried, but other than… she leaned forward as her fingers touched the small bruise at the base of her neck. “What is this?”

  Her aunt placed the fichu around the back of her neck, and they both began to tuck it in place. “That, my dear, is from Mr. Darcy’s attentions to your neck.”

  “But all he did was kiss!”

  A giggle erupted from her aunt before she clamped her mouth shut. “Forgive me for laughing.”

  Fitzwilliam entered, his forehead wrinkled when he noticed the addition to her gown. “Why is this necessary?”

  “I shall await you by the door,” interrupted Aunt Gardiner, “but I will not leave the two of you alone again. While we may be a bit lenient, Mr. Darcy, our values are not so lapse as to allow the display I interrupted. I request you please mind your behaviour.”

  Elizabeth pulled the fichu aside. His eyes widened, and he stepped close. “I barely pulled. I do not understand how?”

  “If my uncle sees it, he will not be pleased. My aunt will not keep a secret from him, but I am certain she does not want him to become angr
y while in company.” A noise came from below where the toe of his shoe kicked against the plush carpet.

  He watched his foot with great concentration. “I am sorry. Now that we are betrothed, my restraint disappears in your presence.”

  “I am not hurt, Fitzwilliam. Embarrassed, but not injured, by any means.” She pressed her palm to his chest and raised her eyebrows when he lifted his head; however, before he could respond, her aunt cleared her throat and peered to a small clock on a side table. “We should return to the drawing room, but please be assured I am not offended or upset with you.”

  “I shall accept your pardon, though you should have slapped me for my actions.”

  “Would you regret the kiss had I done so?”

  A line formed between his eyebrows for a moment before one of his dimples appeared. “No, I doubt it.”

  With a chuckle, he held out his elbow for her to take, and her aunt fell into step behind them as they entered the corridor. Elizabeth paused near a window overlooking the street to study the houses and the square when a familiar figure startled her.

  “Fitzwilliam? I am certain I have seen that man before today.”

  He glanced over her shoulder. “The man at the edge of the square, standing near the tree?”

  “Yes, he passed the carriage on horseback this morning when we arrived, and I am certain he did so when we went to Clarell House for tea. He rode by on his horse just after you stepped to the pavement.”

  “Are you certain, Lizzy?” Aunt Gardiner stepped closer to the window to peek around the draperies.

  “I am positive. Could he be following us?” She looked up to Fitzwilliam. “If he is, why?”

  Fitzwilliam’s entire body tensed as he clenched and released his jaw. “I might know. We should return to the drawing room and alert Richard and your uncle.” His entire body stood rigid as he narrowed his eyes towards the corner of the square.

  “You are scaring me, Fitzwilliam.”

  “I hope you have no reason to fear, but I shall take no chances.”

  “But why us?” Her aunt’s eyes darted between them.

  “I have reason to believe he is following me and not you. I shall explain when we have joined the remainder of our party.”