Particular Intentions

by L. L. Diamond

  She grinned and peered at him from the corner of her eye. “You must understand my mother is also unaware of this information.”

  “Then this must be quite the tittle-tattle if your mother does not know.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she stopped and turned to face him. “You mentioned to Miss Bingley that my mother’s father was a younger son.”

  “Yes, I believe Mrs. Philips boasted of it at the assembly.”

  “I would not be shocked if she did,” she said with a sigh. “But what is not commonly known around the neighbourhood is that my grandfather’s estate was entailed. My Uncle Gardiner inherited my grandfather’s properties and possessions five years ago upon the death of my cousin, but has maintained his residence in Cheapside to continue his business. Since he does not use the estates, they are leased for additional income.”

  “Your uncle owns Netherfield?”

  “Very good, Mr. Darcy. Yes, though he has not mentioned as such to my mother, as she would bemoan the fact that my uncle does not give up his business and move to Netherfield. My uncle finds matters simpler to keep secret rather than give an ear to my mother’s protests.”

  “He is prudent to maintain his investment.”

  “My uncle has two young sons and would like to have the estate to leave to his firstborn without leaving his younger son penniless to make his own way.”

  “Quite prudent, then.”

  Her forehead crinkled. “I am unsure why I confided my uncle’s business to you just now. I have never mentioned it to a soul outside of Jane, who was told by my aunt and uncle.” She shook her head and began to walk once more. “May I ask how you realized I spoke of Netherfield?”

  “Your knowledge of the tree to the library as well as a comment that you were younger when you attempted that manoeuvre last. You are far more familiar with Netherfield than one who only visits.”

  “I should not have told you.”

  “Do not trouble yourself. I shall not jump in my carriage and travel the county, spreading word to all of the rumour-mongering ladies of the neighbourhood.”

  With a hand to her mouth, she giggled. “Forgive me. I had this image of you sitting with my mother and Aunt Philips as they gossiped.”

  He feigned insult. “Would I not fit with such company?”

  Her laughter echoed through the trees. “Not at all! You would give them the scowl you usually do me.”

  “Scowl?” He caught himself watching Miss Elizabeth often, but scowling? “I hope you have not thought me to be stern or angry with you?”

  Her cheeks reddened. “I should not have mentioned it.”

  “Do not apologise when I seem to owe you one.”

  “When I have found you staring in my direction, I thought you looked to find fault.”

  “Dear Lord, no!” He ran a hand across his mouth. “I have found I enjoy listening to an intelligent lady speak. My cousin, who is a colonel in the Regulars, has oft told me I appear cross in situations when I have concerns of the mothers matching me with their daughters.”

  “Ah, so you hide behind a forbidding expression.” She walked around a tree, trailing her fingers along the bark. “Your family must expect much from your marriage.”

  “They do. My aunt, Lady Catherine, wishes me to wed my cousin, Anne, though neither of us wishes for such a travesty. We are more brother and sister than cousins. I could never...” A shudder ran down his spine.

  “So you are still searching for the correct lady?”

  “I would not call it a search.” Her eyebrow lifted, and he smiled. “Lady Fitzwilliam introduces me to eligible ladies at balls and parties, I speak with them for a few minutes, I become impatient, and I excuse myself with haste.”

  “You become weary? Can none of them hold a proper discourse on fashion or the weather?”

  Her lips twitched, and his hands clenched at his sides. How he wanted to tickle that laugh from her lips!

  “You are terrible, Miss Elizabeth.”

  An improper sound escaped her nose, and she covered the bottom of her face with her hand, peeking from the corner of her eye to ascertain if he noticed. She cleared her throat. “All of them are wanting in some manner, then?”

  “They are insipid and do not interest me in the slightest.”

  “Perhaps your aunt is introducing you to the wrong ladies?”

  “I fear she has had me make the acquaintance of every young lady the ton has to offer.”

  Miss Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Oh dear.”

  Oh dear, indeed!

  He stepped around her, so he would not claim her lips in an impulsive gesture. He could not kiss her! Matters became more challenging with every look and every discussion. What was he to do?

  Chapter 7

  November 19th 1811

  Elizabeth made haste from the front door, walking ahead of her sisters to avoid the insufferable company of her cousin. His voice was behind her, but she would not look! She could not risk him taking it as encouragement!

  As of that morning, he had begun to trail her around the house. He spoke of Lady Catherine—was that not the name of Mr. Darcy’s aunt?—Rosings Park, and his own parish at Hunsford in that order of priority. He prattled on and on without a care for the thoughts of others or of how tedious his conversation was. She could take no more!

  When she first returned to Longbourn, she was pleased to be home. Sure, her mother ranted and raved that they should have remained longer at Netherfield, but Elizabeth needed to separate herself from Mr. Darcy. She required a clarity she could not obtain with his constant presence.

  The gentleman had been kind and gracious, but that was the problem. He had become everything for which she could hope in a husband, yet he could never consider her. Their conversation in the back garden at Netherfield revealed as much, and explained why he behaved so at the assembly—at least her vanity was restored.

  She had heard rumours of his wealth and bachelor status whispered about the assembly that night. The sound likely carried to his ears as well. Include her mother in the fracas, and the night was a disaster in the making to his sensibilities.

  “Elizabeth Bennet, wait for your cousin and your sisters!”

  She turned back. When had her mother ventured to the portico? With a low growl, she tempered her pace a bit, though not enough for Mr. Collins, whose shoulders heaved up and down as he panted like a dog to reach her side.

  As she rounded the corner and was no longer in sight of her mother, she pressed forward despite the calls from the obsequious parson.

  “Cousin Elizabeth!”

  Lydia pranced alongside her. “Just wait until I tell Mama you abandoned Mr. Collins! She will not be pleased.”

  “You will not say a word. Lest I tell her you wish to be the object of our cousin’s attentions.”

  Lydia’s jaw dropped. “You would not dare!”

  “Oh, but I would. I do not appreciate his fawning so do not provide more to persuade me.”

  With a huff, Lydia sauntered back to Kitty. Her words were unintelligible, but the tone of her whining was certainly discernible.

  “What did you say to Lydia?”

  She startled. Jane had managed to make her way to Elizabeth’s other side.

  “She threatened to tell Mama that I was avoiding Mr. Collins. Speaking of our cousin, what is he doing?”

  Jane peered back. “He continues to look at you, but he is speaking with Mary.”

  “I daresay she has more in common with him.”

  “That is ungenerous, Lizzy.” Her words rebuked, but Jane’s lips were drawn tight. She was suppressing a smile.

  “You would not wish to wed Mr. Collins any more than I.”

  Jane shook her head. “No, I would not, but I believe Mama indicated I was soon to be betrothed to Mr. Bingley.”

  “Are you saying, she offered me in your stead?”

  Her sister fidgeted with her fichu. “I entered the drawing room this morning as they were concluding their conversation.”


  Elizabeth peered back to Mr. Collins as he steadily spoke with Mary. “Well, he cannot expect me to accept if he never has the opportunity to speak with me.”

  “You cannot avoid him for a se’nnight!”

  “I can try!”

  They entered Meryton but had not gone far when Lydia and Kitty began to giggle and point; however, before Elizabeth could reprimand them, her youngest sisters ran ahead to greet Mr. Denny and a young man whom they had never seen before but who had a most gentlemanlike appearance.

  Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows to Jane, who gave an almost imperceptible shrug, before they followed their youngest sisters. Lydia was in high animal spirits as she tittered and batted her eyelashes. Her behaviour was shameless and mortifying. Could she not control herself?

  “Lizzy! You must come meet Mr. Wickham! He is to join the militia. He will be so charming in regimentals, will he not?”

  Jane approached Lydia’s other side and whispered in her ear, though their youngest sister ignored Jane’s gentle and subtle chastisement.

  “Oh la! I would never have any fun if I listened to you and Lizzy!”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. Her father needed to step out of his book room and take Lydia in hand before she was forever a younger version of their mother, or worse.

  As her eyes reopened, Mary approached with Mr. Collins, both giving Lydia disapproving glares. Not that Lydia noticed. On the contrary, she continued on as though nothing had been said at all.

  “Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary,” said Mr. Denny when Lydia broke for air. “I would like to introduce Mr. Wickham.”

  Elizabeth curtsied as the young man gave a bow. “So, if my sister is to be believed, you have just joined the militia?”

  “Yes, I happened upon Denny while he was in London, and he convinced me of the militia’s worth. I must say that if everyone is as welcoming as you and your sisters in Meryton, I will be quite well pleased with my situation.”

  “I hope you will.”

  A horse neighed and a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley rode down High Street, but upon taking notice of the Bennet sisters, steered their horses in their direction.

  As they drew closer, Mr. Darcy exhibited a peculiar change. His face, which had been calm and collected, became inflamed and his lips all but disappeared they thinned so. What had come over him? Her eyes traced the gentleman’s line of vision to that of Mr. Wickham, who paled but wore a smirk. When Mr. Wickham took notice of Elizabeth’s examination of him, his expression shifted to become more neutral.

  Mr. Bingley dismounted and strode forward. “I was on my way to Longbourn to inquire after the health of Miss Bennet and here you are. Most fortuitous, I would say.”

  After he stepped down, Mr. Darcy drew beside Elizabeth. “Quite. Bingley, why do we not accompany the ladies on their return to Longbourn?”

  A weak clearing of the throat came from the direction of Mr. Collins, who had raised his hand, but Mr. Darcy must not have heard. Of course, that gentleman’s eyes were boring into Mr. Wickham without so much as a blink.

  “But we have not yet stopped at Aunt Philips’!”

  With a firm grip to Lydia’s elbow, Elizabeth gave her a pull. “I will send a note when we arrive home. I am certain she will understand.”

  “But I do not understand,” she continued to protest, attracting the notice of others on the street.

  “Hush, Lydia!” She kept her voice low in the hopes the gentlemen did not hear. “You are being rude to Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. Mama will be displeased if she learns of it.”

  Her youngest sister jerked away from Elizabeth’s grasp. “I wish to remain in Meryton.”

  “Well, we are returning to Longbourn. You are well aware you are not permitted to remain in Meryton without one of us.”

  Lydia growled and flounced to Kitty, whom Jane had already begun to usher back towards home.

  “Please forgive our hasty departure, Mr. Wickham, Mr. Denny. We had not anticipated company at Longbourn. Our mother will expect our return.”

  Mr. Wickham bowed, not removing his eyes from Mr. Darcy, while Mr. Denny bowed to Elizabeth. “We shall be sorry to lose your company, but we do understand. Do we not, Wickham?”

  Mr. Wickham jolted. “Yes, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth dipped a brief curtsey and turned, Mr. Darcy’s boots stomping the ground as he followed behind her. What was that all about? Would Mr. Darcy explain or was she to assume Mr. Wickham was not to be trusted?

  “Cousin Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins panted as he jogged alongside her. “One of my other cousins mentioned the gentleman behind you is none other than Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. Is that true?”

  “Yes, I believe his estate is called Pemberley. Why do you ask?”

  Mr. Collins bounced on his toes as his entire face lit. “His esteemed aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, is my patroness. I must make myself known to him!”

  With a grasp to Mr. Collins forearm, she halted his movement toward the object of his latest raptures. “Mr. Collins, you must not—”

  Her cousin shook her hand from his arm. “My dear cousin, you must trust me in this, as you one day will trust me with all.”

  He stepped back and Elizabeth continued walking, grinding her teeth as she awaited the storm that was sure to come.

  “I could not help but overhear that your name is Mr. Darcy!”

  “I beg your pardon?” The gentleman’s voice was lower than was his wont, and menacing.

  “You are Mr. Darcy, nephew of my patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” There was not even a moment’s pause. “I am pleased to report your aunt and betrothed Miss Anne de Bourgh were in—”

  “What pray is your name?”

  Elizabeth could take no more and turned. Mr. Darcy had halted and glared down upon the much shorter Mr. Collins, who was undaunted and stared at the wealthy gentleman with a look of pure adulation. Mr. Darcy’s entire bearing, however, was stiff and unrelenting. His eyes were hard, his jaw clenched.

  “I am Mr. Collins, sir.” Her cousin was too occupied bowing before Mr. Darcy to take notice of his displeasure.

  “Mr. Collins, I feel I must disabuse you of the misinformation you have received. I am not now, nor have I ever been betrothed to my cousin, and as both of us find the idea abhorrent, we shall never be so. Do you understand?”

  “B… b… but your aunt?” Mr. Collins shrank some with each stutter.

  “My aunt cannot accept my cousin’s current betrothal and has been attempting to change her mind for the past year. Spreading the rumour of my attachment to her daughter is the final ploy of a woman desperate to alter a situation she dislikes. You will spread such lies no further. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Y… yes, sir.”

  “Now, the youngest Miss Bennets are walking ahead without escort. You must go ensure they are not endangered on the remainder of their way home.”

  “I was told by Mrs. Bennet to accompany my cousin Elizabeth.”

  “Miss Elizabeth is not walking ahead, and I can provide her protection while I lead my horse. You must run ahead and escort Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty.”

  Mr. Darcy continued to stare down at her cousin until the man bowed and scurried to the front of the group where Lydia and Kitty sulked as they complained of the unfairness of their being forced to return. No doubt, when they reached Longbourn, they would tell their mother how horribly Elizabeth treated them.

  “Is he truly your cousin?” came Mr. Darcy’s incredulous voice from beside her.

  She sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. He is set to inherit Longbourn when my father passes.”

  “And your mother has offered you as the sacrificial lamb?”

  “I have reason to believe she has.” With an arm, she gestured before her as she began walking. “I cannot imagine marriage to such a man, but my mother is more concerned with her security.”

  “Shall we have a bit of fun at
your mother’s and Mr. Collins’ expense?”

  She grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Nothing scandalous,” he said with a laugh. He leaned in her direction and offered his arm. “Perhaps just enough for her to think you might find a betrothed elsewhere.”

  Her stomach dropped. “I could not ask that of you as I know what great lengths you go to avoid such conjecture.”

  “I do not mind if it saves you from the fate of Mr. Collins.”

  A laugh bubbled from her lips. “He is not unattractive.”

  Mr. Darcy’s head jerked back with his jaw agape. “He is an imbecile.”

  “That he is.” She placed her hand upon his elbow. “I hope I do not live to regret this.”

  “What damage could arise?”

  “You will one day leave, and I shall be forced to endure Mama’s laments that I have failed to secure your hand.”

  A lop-sided grin appeared upon his face. “But you will not be wed to Mr. Collins.”

  “Very true!”

  “Miss Elizabeth.” All trace of humour had disappeared and his features were hardened. “I must speak with your father as soon as we reach Longbourn. Can that be arranged?”

  She nodded. “I shall take you to his study immediately.”

  “Thank you. I must apologise for forcing your hasty retreat from Meryton. I had no intention of being rude to yourself or your sisters.”

  She gave a gentle squeeze to his arm. “I gathered by your expression there has been some disagreement between you and Mr. Wickham. I did not believe you would rush us from the village without good cause.”

  “I have the best of reasons, and your trust at that moment was greatly appreciated. I had no wish to cause a scene.”

  As Longbourn came into view, Lydia and Kitty ran ahead, calling for their mother the moment they entered. Jane and Elizabeth waited as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy handed their horses to a groom, then followed Mr. Collins and Mary inside and into the drawing room.

  “Mr. Bingley! It was so kind of you to see my daughters home. They can walk to Meryton anytime.” Her mother’s eyes fell upon Elizabeth’s hand and its placement upon Mr. Darcy’s arm. Elizabeth snatched it away as though his topcoat had scalded her. Those same eyes bulged a hairsbreadth before she resumed her fawning attentions to Mr. Bingley.