“No, truly,” she protested. “I overheard the servants speak of your heated discussion with my cousin.” Their faces were but inches apart, and Anne’s breath caught in her throat. The fact that his also hitched gave her encouragement.
Southland chuckled. “I’d forgotten the efficiency of the English serving class. It seems my approaching you yesterday has brought some notice.”
“May I ask a question, Lieutenant?” she asked impulsively.
“Certainly, Miss De Bourgh.”
“Why have you sought me out? Why me? Why now?” Anne took calming breaths to steady her nerves.
Southland released her hand and returned to his chair. “It’s a complicated issue, and I’m not certain I can explain it. I’ve always desired the connection to your family — but not for the renown or the wealth. My cousin repeatedly extolled Sir Lewis’s merits, and I’ve found the same excellence in the colonel’s side of the family.”
Anne frowned. “Would you expect excellence on my part?” The thought of her obvious deficiencies frightened her.
“Again, that’s not exactly what I meant, Miss De Bourgh. My words may make you believe that I’m a bounder who seeks the connection, but it’s much deeper than that.” He paused. “As strange as it sounds,” he said with a deep sigh, “it’s been my belief since my childhood that I’d some day call Rosings Park home.”
Anne counted to ten in her head and reversed the numbers before she answered. “Many might think yours a case for Bedlam, Lieutenant.”
He smiled easily. “I suppose they would.” Again, he paused briefly. “My only concern is whether you find my words crazy.”
Her eyebrow rose in curiosity. “I’ll have to consider the rationality of such a remark. Or the lack thereof.” But Anne actually smiled at him. “When I asked for honesty…”
“You didn’t expect what I offered,” he finished her thought. Taking a deep breath of resignation, the lieutenant stood to make his departure. “Thank you, Miss De Bourgh, for sharing your tea and your caution. I’ll take my leave.” He bowed stiffly.
“Lieutenant.” Ann made her decision without considering the consequences. “I’d thought to explore Mr. Darcy’s library. I wonder if you might also be in need of a book?” She stood and straightened her dress’s seams. “If so, we might discuss our favorites.” Her heart pounded like that of a racehorse.
Southland let out relief ’s sigh. “Or the weather.”
Anne glanced toward the lace-draped windows. “Oh, the weather is abominable. Could we not seek another more pleasant subject?”
“Absolutely, Miss De Bourgh. I’m your captive audience.” Southland extended his arm, and Anne slid her hand into his elbow’s crook. His muscles flexed, and she felt the anticipation of a new adventure.
Roman couldn’t believe his luck: Anne De Bourgh had accepted his arm. They would spend additional time together.
But, on closer inspection, Roman realized that her paleness meant china-white skin — creamy, actually; soft and inviting to a man’s touch. She had a pert little upturned nose, wide, doe-like eyes with elegantly long lashes, and her full lips, set too often in a firm line, were inviting when she smiled. Her long, slender neck led to soft shoulders and the delicious swell of her dress above her neckline. She was taller than he had expected, but still the lady’s head only came to his shoulder.
It was with a great deal of pride that he escorted Miss De Bourgh through Pemberley’s hall. It felt right — as if she belonged by his side. It was an unreasonable conclusion. In reality, they held less than a four and twenty hours’ acquaintance, but that didn’t matter. For the first time in his life — since the time he first had heard his cousin speak of life at Hunsford Cottage — Roman breathed freely: This was where God had always wanted him to be.
“A small gift from Nan,” Elizabeth said as she handed the hastily made child’s dressing gown to Mary. The woman had dutifully completed the delivery, and with Mrs. Washington’s assistance, Elizabeth had helped to freshen Mary’s clothing. Now, the new mother rested once again in the bed. She held the sleeping child in the bend of her arm.
“I’ll thank the girl properly,” Mrs. Joseph mumbled.
Elizabeth patted the lady’s hand. “Why do you not rest?”
“You need rest also,” Mrs. Joseph sleepily protested.
“First, I believe I’ll go downstairs and have a proper supper with Mr. Darcy. I need time to rest my back.” She stretched out her arms. “I’ll send Mr. Joseph to sit with you.”
“Let Matthew be. No one needs to watch me sleep.” Mary’s eyelids closed slowly, but then sprung open again. “That’s unless you require private time with Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth smiled easily. “I never tire of the man’s company. Even after two years.”
“Then by all means send Mr. Joseph up. A woman of your infinite powers should have her every wish.” She caught Elizabeth’s hand in a tight grip.
Elizabeth’s finger gently touched the sleeping child’s hair. “My wish is to have what you have, Mary,” she whispered.
“You will, Elizabeth.” Mrs. Joseph assured. “You’ll have your own happiness… you and Mr. Darcy.” She paused and took a deep breath. “My child’s birth… I was never afraid, because God placed the incomparable Elizabeth Darcy in my life. My prayers… those I recited before Matthew and I left Stoke-on-Trent — they were for God to send an angel to protect my child, and on the third day of travel, I walked into this out-of-the-way inn; and there you were. My own angel.”
Elizabeth snorted. “I’ve been called many things, but ‘angel’ has rarely been one of them.”
“That’s where the world’s in error, Elizabeth. They see those defenses you show to anyone who barely knows you. They don’t see your magnificent heart — your indomitable spirit — the purity of your soul.”
Elizabeth laughed self-consciously. “Do not bestow upon me too many exemplary qualities. If so, I’ll have to find something good to say of Miss Bingley.”
Mary’s eyebrow rose in curiosity. “Miss Bingley?”
Elizabeth chuckled lightly. “The younger sister of my sister Jane’s husband. She did poor Jane a disservice, and Miss Bingley also had once set her sights on Mr. Darcy.”
“Angels can feel jealousy, Elizabeth.” Mary squeezed Elizabeth’s hand.
“So, there are shades of angelic behavior?” Elizabeth’s voice rose in amusement.
Mary laughed also. “Absolutely. God’s love is the purest, but mankind can possess levels of the benevolent spirit.”
“Then, in your opinion, I have God’s attention.” Elizabeth puzzled over that concept.
“We all have God’s attention, but I believe that He’s chosen you among His favorites.”
Before she could stifle her words, Elizabeth defensively asked, “Then how could God allow my children to die before I knew them? Before I could tell them of my love?” Tears trickled from her eyes.
Mrs. Joseph swallowed hard. “That’s the question which most frightens you, is it not, Elizabeth? You wonder how, if you serve God, He could not honor you with a child of your own. How the rest of the world can know such happiness? How no one, except Mr. Darcy, understands the depth of your fear?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth murmured.
“I’ve no answer that would satisfy your heart: God gives us what we need when we need it. Matthew holds different ideas on such matters, but I believe that when the Bible says that God created man in His own image, that means God has His own foibles. He’s a bit selfish. God wished to surround Himself with the laughter of children — the most magical sound in the world. Therefore, sometimes He does the selfish thing and calls the child home early. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense.”
