Elizabeth unwrapped it to reveal a small “lady’s” pistol Richard had purchased for her. Although many in the ton viewed shooting as an unladylike pursuit, Richard had seen it as a useful skill for any woman, including his fiancée. So he had gifted her with the pistol and provided her with lessons in how to use it. She had never enjoyed shooting but had grown reasonably competent. Truthfully, Elizabeth had forgotten about the pistol. It had always remained at the townhouse, and she had never used it, save for practice with Richard.
She regarded it distastefully. “Grayson, I do not believe I should—”
“Ma’am, if you forgive my saying so, the colonel would want you to carry it with you under these circumstances. Perhaps in your reticule. He would be very concerned.” Elizabeth hesitated. “For the colonel’s sake, ma’am,” Grayson repeated.
Elizabeth sighed and picked up the gun, its weight foreign in her hand. “Very well.” Grayson smiled in satisfaction and handed her the reticule, watching as she inserted the pistol into it.
Elizabeth stood and made her way out the door and into the entrance hall. Lawrence gestured for a maid to follow Elizabeth up the stairs to her bedchamber, as if afraid her mistress was not competent to do so alone. After one stumble, Elizabeth was forced to admit Lawrence might not have been entirely wrong.
***
There was no room for doubt: Elizabeth was not pleased to see him.
Darcy, however, felt he had demonstrated remarkable restraint.
Having learned of the savage attack on Elizabeth’s house the previous night, he had fought valiantly against an overwhelming desire to immediately appear on her doorstep. Fortunately, Ge
orgiana had persuaded him that Elizabeth would not appreciate such gross impropriety and had reassured him that her staff was now alert to the danger.
Darcy had conceded to his sister’s logic with poor grace and had mollified his concern by clandestinely instructing his butler to send four footmen to Elizabeth’s house. This had permitted Darcy to sleep for a few restless hours, only to wake before dawn. He had deferred his visit to Elizabeth’s townhouse until nine, which he felt showed considerable self-control under the circumstances.
At least Elizabeth had been awake and dressed when he arrived. However, she was unhappy to discover he knew of the previous night’s events.
“How did you learn about the incident so quickly?” she asked over a cup of coffee in her breakfast room.
Darcy cleared his throat and examined the fascinating pattern of the tablecloth. “Er, my man in the stable sent word around soon after it happened.”
Elizabeth scowled. “I did not realize you had placed a spy in my household.”
Darcy colored. “That was not my intention.” Elizabeth set her mouth in a straight line and said nothing further. Darcy wished to explain, but what should he say? At Darcy House, his duty had been clear, but confronted with an angry Elizabeth, he worried he might have overstepped his bounds.
“I visited Wickham,” Darcy said.
She lowered her coffee cup. “You did?”
Darcy could not remain seated any longer. He shoved his chair back from the table and restlessly paced the breakfast room. “Early this morning. There can be little doubt of his involvement, but naturally, he denies any knowledge. And we have no proof. He seems to have fallen in with a crowd of ruffians, if my informants are correct. That makes the situation more complex. Even if I can find a way to stop Wickham himself, he may find others to carry out his mischief.”
Elizabeth stood as well, regarding him steadily. “I appreciate your concern, but this incident does not warrant so much anxiety. I am unharmed.”
“Oh?” Darcy strode to Elizabeth and reached out a finger to trace the cut on her neck. “This cut says otherwise.” She flushed and pulled away from his touch. Good Lord! How could he have taken such a liberty? Abruptly snatching his hand back, he strode to the window, as far from Elizabeth—and temptation—as the room would allow. “Forgive me,” he murmured, certain his face was a bright red.
There was a long pause. Would Elizabeth castigate him for his inappropriate behavior? She cleared her throat. “It is a shallow scratch, nothing to cause undue anxiety.” Darcy said a silent prayer of thanks. Apparently, this was another incident they would pretend had never happened.
But he shuddered at the thought of how badly he had failed to protect her. “You are not safe until this situation is resolved. I will send you additional footmen, and you must come to Darcy House for the duration.” He hoped she would not notice the additional footmen were already posted outside her house.
“There is no need,” Elizabeth replied. “I have Grayson and two other footmen, plus a gardener and groom. Mr. Wickham would not be foolish enough to act directly against me in my own home.”
Darcy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Such stubbornness was not unanticipated. “I must insist. I will not rest easy until I know you are securely protected.”
Elizabeth stood behind her chair, grasping its back with white-knuckled hands. “And I am perfectly in earnest. I am not a member of your staff, and I will not hasten to obey your every instruction.” Her tone was light and teasing, but he detected a hint of irritation.
Damnation! He had offended her! Was nothing ever simple with this woman? His heart sank at the thought. Half of their conversations seemed composed of misunderstandings and conflict. Even now her frustration with him showed in every line of her body. Perhaps she could never get past her distaste for him. He had tried to become a better person for her, but he could not completely change everything about himself. Maybe she was not capable of loving the man who was Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Darcy pulled his thoughts out of this spiral of despair and struggled to formulate a response. “I do not think of you in those terms, Miss Bennet, I assure you.”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes to the table. “I will accept the offer of additional staff. Thank you. But I do not believe it is necessary for me to abandon my home.”
“Very well,” Darcy said. Her concession would do for the moment, but they would return to the subject again. He would not compromise Elizabeth’s safety, even if she hated him for it. At least she would be alive and unharmed to hate him.