Pemberley Ranch

Texas?”

“Ah. Well, I suppose it was to do good. Help those who had been put down all their lives. Right the injustice that was perpetrated here.”

“Help the former slaves?”

“Yes, you could say that.”

“But, there don’t seem to be any slaves around here—except for the Washingtons, and they moved here recently.”

“Well, when one is a public servant, one goes where one is assigned. But what makes you think there haven’t been slaves around here?”

“I haven’t seen any. You mean there are, or were? Did the Darcys own slaves?”

George sighed. “Most rich people in the South owned hundreds of slaves.”

“But what happened to them?”

“I don’t know. Ran off when they heard of Emancipation, I suppose. Would you want to live near your former owners?”

Beth had to admit she wouldn’t. She finished the dance, her mind in turmoil until George walked her back to her chair, Lily occupying the one next to it.

“Perhaps you are a bit tired,” George said. “May I get you something?”

“Beth, are you unwell?” asked her sister.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she protested.

“All right, then,” said Lily. “George, you promised me a dance!”

“Yes, I did. Please excuse us.”

Beth did not watch them walk away. She had too much on her mind.

Darcy was furious watching Beth dance with Whitehead. The only reason he didn’t explode was the expression on Beth’s face. It was apparent she wasn’t enjoying herself. Perhaps, he thought, she sees Whitehead for the snake he is. He knew he would have to explain to her why he feigned disinterest in her. It wouldn’t be good for Whitehead to suspect that Darcy had feelings for Beth until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

“Hey, Will, come over here an’ meet my newest friend.”

Darcy turned, his lips curling into a smile. “That will be a first, as you don’t have any friends.” He saw Fitz leaning against the makeshift bar with an Army officer, both with beers in their hands.

Fitz grinned. “This here’s Captain John Buford of the United States Cavalry, stationed at Fort Richardson. He’s here to protect our bacon from the savage natives that infest these here parts.”

Darcy extended his hand. “William Darcy.”

The officer, tall and dark, shook his hand with a firm grip. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Darcy. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Fitz laughed. “Nothin’ good, I assume.”

Buford smiled. “Like I’ll get the straight story out of you.”

Darcy leaned on the bar, signaling for a beer. “You sound like you know each other.”

“Yes and no,” Fitz said. “Buford here was a blue-belly colonel chasin’ my ass all over the Shenandoah Valley during the late unpleasantness.”

“And a slippery man you were, Major.” Buford turned to Darcy. “I rode with Custer.”

“You stayed in the army,” Darcy observed.

“It’s my profession. I resumed my permanent rank after the war.” He looked Darcy right in the eye. “And you, sir?”

“Texas Legion, Vicksburg. I’ve seen the elephant.[3]”

Buford nodded. “Thought so. I’ve got a few ex-Confederates in my company. Good men. Ex-officers, although they’re enlisted now. Regulations,” he shrugged.

“And you’re at Fort Richardson. Not with Custer and the Seventh Cavalry,” Darcy observed.

Buford lost a bit of his good cheer. “No, I’m no longer with Colonel Custer. I find my current assignment much more to my liking.” What was left unsaid hung over the room.

Fitz tried to change the subject. “Such as raising flags at parties?”

Buford smiled again. “One of my more pleasant duties, I assure you. My colonel assigned me to a detail to do the honors.” He looked around. “Although I’ll probably catch the devil from my wife, Deborah, when I get back. She dearly loves a dance.”

“She’s at post with you?”

“Yes, and expecting another addition to our family in about a month. It’ll be our third, but you worry every time.”

“I expect so.” Darcy took a sip. “How are things otherwise?”

A knowing look crept into Buford’s eyes. “It’s quiet down here, but up along the Red River, it’s another story.”

“I thought I heard something along those lines. Tell me, is the army planning anything soon?”

Buford looked away, considering. “Are you planning on driving any cattle north?”

“Fitz here just got back from Kansas, delivering a herd.”

“Good, good. Let me say this—it’s a wise decision you made, going early. Very wise.”

Darcy and Fitzwilliam nodded, getting the message. The army was planning a major operation against the tribes. Just then, Caroline Bingley walked up.

“There you are, Mr. Darcy. I do believe it’s time for our dance… oh.” She noticed the army officer.

Darcy did the honors. “Miss Caroline Bingley, this is Captain John Buford.” Buford bowed slightly, but to the gentlemen’s surprise, Miss Bingley turned away from him without a word, delivering the cut direct. Darcy did not know the root cause of the woman’s behavior and decided the best way to quell any further incident was to offer the lady his arm for the dance, and they moved away. Fitz was mortified.

“Sorry about that, Buford.”

The officer took a swig of his beer. “Am I supposed to know her? Have I done something to warrant that?”

“Umm… she’s from Georgia.”

“Ohhh… I see. I understand now. The March to the Sea?”

“Yeah.”

Buford cursed. “Damn that war.”

Anne finally escaped the smothering attentions of George Whitehead and went to look for her friend, Beth. Anne wished her mother would believe her when she told her about Whitehead, but she would only dismiss her. “Nonsense,” she would say. “Mr. Whitehead knows his place. He would not look so high as you—he knows better. Enjoy the attention, and who knows— maybe it will finally make Darcy jealous.”

Anne saw Beth standing off to one corner of the tent away from the dance floor, looking in the other direction. Anne walked over to her, catching her attention, but before she could say anything over the low rumble of the crowd, a loud voice was heard.

“I must say I’m amused by what the rustics here about call a ball, Mr. Darcy.”

Both girls saw Caroline Bingley standing close to Will Darcy a few feet away. As they were both behind the pair, they were unnoticed. Anne saw Beth trying to restrain a giggle, holding one finger across her lips. They could clearly overhear the conversation.

“It’s true we don’t have the facilities found in the city, Miss Bingley, but we’re able to manage,” Darcy said dryly.

“And the dresses! Certainly not up to St. Charles Avenue standards, bless their hearts. Except Miss Darcy, of course. No one can disparage her.”

“Of course not.”

Beth threatened to laugh out loud, and Anne had to admit she was amused as well by the pretentious debutant.