strained to see a tall man riding away from the crossing on a black horse. A chill ran through her, glad that the swimming hole was so well hidden. She would have been mortified to death had anyone come upon her like that!
Mary was fidgeting on the seat of the family wagon as Beth, next to her, handled the reins. Her sister had to hide her smile—Mary claimed her excitement was over the first meeting of the Rosings Musical Society, but Beth was sure her sister’s nerves were more unsettled by the expectation of the attendance of their host, Reverend Tilney. The wagon rolled easily down the road into town, giving Kathy and Lily, in the bed of the wagon, little reason to complain. That they did anyway was in keeping with their characters.
All the Bennet girls were going to the outing. Mary, of course, was one of the organizers of the society, and Beth owned a lovely singing voice. Kathy and Lily, on the other hand, were not known for their musical prowess, preferring to listen and dance rather than perform. Still, given the choice of putting on a nice dress and going into town or staying at home to churn butter, the two youngest Bennets claimed to be the greatest music lovers in Texas.
The girls arrived early, even after stopping by the Bingleys’ to pick up Jane. Beth and Lily moved to secure the horses while the others went into the church, Mary almost running. They were happy to receive assistance from a couple of friendly passersby.
“Well, Miss Beth, Miss Lily,” smiled George Whitehead as he took the reins and affixed them to the hitching post while Billy Collins stood nearby, “I suppose you’re excited about the new musical society I hear is being formed.”
“Lord, yes—anything to get out of chores!” Lily laughed.
Collins smiled. “And you, Miss Beth, is your interest in the group as practical as your sister’s?”
Beth smiled. “Not so very practical, Mr. Collins. I do love music, and the chores will be awaiting us when we return.”
Lily stuck out her tongue. “Oh, pooh, you’re such a spoilsport, Beth! George, are you staying to listen? Say you will. We need an audience. You, too, Mr. Collins! Beth, help me convince them.”
Whitehead laughed. “I wish I could, Miss Lily, but we do have work to do.”
Lily stamped her foot in a halfhearted pout, but her attention was caught by a wagon moving slowly down the street, a woman driving the team of oxen, while a man walked beside it. “Oh, look at that! Is that the new homesteaders moving in?”
Collins colored and started to cough. Whitehead turned back to the two girls. “No, moving out, I’m afraid.” He lowered his voice. “Those farmers lost their place.”
Lily put a hand over her mouth. Beth asked, “What happened?”
Collins waited until the wagon was past. “The usual thing, miss. People move in, borrow more than they can afford, get overextended, can’t meet the payments.” He shrugged.
“Foreclosure,” Lily whispered. “Oh, how dreadful!”
Beth realized Collins wouldn’t meet her eye. “Was it Rosings Bank that foreclosed on them?”
Whitehead jumped in. “Rosings did hold the paper—Collins and I were just discussing it. He told me that he and Mrs. Burroughs did everything they could to extend more credit, but,” he smiled, “it wasn’t enough.”
“Enough? But it’s the bank! You’ve got all the money in town!” Lily claimed.
“Not all the money—there’s Darcy Bank,” Collins pointed out.
“Yes,” Whitehead agreed, “and if Darcy Bank had helped those poor people out, Rosings may not have been forced to call in the loan.”
“How greedy can they be? Mr. Darcy is a mean man!” Lily cried.
Collins simpered. “Not everyone is as concerned about the community as Mrs. Burroughs and Rosings Bank. But there’s only so much we can do. A shame, really.”
Whitehead glanced down the street and then turned back quickly. “We’d best be going. We’ve got a meeting in a few minutes.”
Collins looked at his pocket watch and blanched. “Goodness! We’re late. Mrs. Burroughs will be displeased. Good day, ladies.”
The man began to scamper down the sidewalk, leaving Whitehead to make their proper farewells to the Bennets. Lily laughed about Collins’s antics as the two ladies joined the others inside, Beth happy to see that Charlotte was already there. It was only a moment later that the front door opened and three other people walked in.
“Mr. and Miss Darcy, Miss Burroughs, welcome!” Tilney strode up the aisle to take Darcy’s hand. Beth schooled her face to hide her surprise. She knew they were invited, but she never expected that they would actually attend. By their sudden arrival, she wondered if George had seen them approach and had gone to avoid the unpleasant rancher.
Darcy greeted only Jane with more than the barest civility. Beth had the strangest feeling he was avoiding looking her in the face, but was staring at her back as she talked to Miss Darcy and Miss Burroughs. She did her best to ignore the man and focus her attention on the two girls.
Both were quiet, polite, and reserved, but that was almost the only similarity between the two. Anne Burroughs was a short, pale, plain girl in her mid-twenties. Her brown hair was pulled up in a tight bun on her head, making her appear even more severe than Mary. Gaby Darcy was a sweet girl, just seventeen, tall and well developed. Her black hair, worn down, set off her dusky complexion. Her dark eyes shone with a restrained exuberance.
The only other similarity was that both girls had an intense desire to become acquainted with Beth. Their object could only wonder at it.
“I’m very glad to meet you, Miss Beth,” Anne was able to manage.
“Oh, yes! We’ve heard so much about you! Haven’t we, Anne?” Gaby cried.
Beth was confused. “I can’t imagine where—”
The rest of her comment was interrupted as Mary and Jane called the group to order. The two had decided between themselves to organize the society, Mary realizing that Jane was far better suited to the task than she. The ladies all took their seats and began discussing the purpose of the society and how often they should all meet. It was quickly decided that it should be a monthly gathering, weather permitting, and that in future they would have themes to the meetings, such as the works of a certain composer or a type of music.
For this first meeting, Jane suggested everyone play or perform their favorite piece, either alone or with others. Henry Tilney, standing to the side of the group, showed the ladies over to the piano and pump organ and then, with a bow, walked to the back of the church. Beth was surprised that he wasn’t alone—Will Darcy was also seated in a back pew, his arms crossed over his chest. Beth assumed the man had left after greeting everyone with so little enthusiasm. To her discomfort, he seemed to be staring at her again.
Mary opened the performance with a hymn. Beth hid a wince. Once again, Mary was trying too hard to achieve a stateliness to her performance, while damaging the musicality of the piece.
“She’s very… solemn,” whispered Gaby in her ear.
Beth giggled. “Oh, yes—very solemn, indeed.”
Gaby blushed. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, I meant no harm.”
Beth reached over and took Gaby’s hand. “No offense taken. And you must call me Beth if we’re to be friends.”
Gaby’s relieved smile almost broke Beth’s heart. “Call me Gaby, please, Beth. And Anne—you’ll call her Anne, won’t you? We’re so glad to make new friends.”
It had been a long time since Darcy had as much enjoyment as he did sitting on a hard church pew in the back of a Baptist church. Each of the ladies who could play an instrument took a turn, first performing by themselves then accompanying those who only sang. Mary Bennet was adequate, although Tilney seemed to enjoy her singing well enough. Darcy hid an amused grin. Jane Bingley was no surprise—he had heard her often at dinners he had attended to know of her talent. He had a bit of concern as Gaby took to the instrument to play “Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee,” but after an early falter, she rallied and played flawlessly, gaining confidence as she went on.
