Lady Buford was escorted down the gangplank by the captain himself, Roberts and Abigail trailing behind. No sooner had her foot touched land than she heard her name called. Caroline turned and saw Philip and Rebecca Buford waving, standing next to a coach. As her in-laws approached, Caroline thanked the captain for his kindness and took her leave of him. Roberts began to see to the collection of their trunks as Caroline greeted her family.
“Philip, Rebecca, I am so happy to see you! Thank you for coming.”
“Thank us?” cried her brother. “What sort of foolishness is that? Of course we are here. You are a Buford, you know.” After kissing her on both cheeks in the French style, he excused himself to help Roberts. There was that informality again, thought Caroline.
“Caroline,” said Rebecca, “are you well? You look a bit flushed.”
Caroline reminded herself that she would have to become accustomed to the Bufords’ abruptness. She prevaricated. “I am well, Rebecca, I thank you—only desirous to get home.”
“Very well, my dear.” Mrs. Buford then called out to her husband. “Philip, Caroline is tired and wishes to go to the house!”
Caroline was taken aback.
“Very well, my dear. Take the coach—bring the maid with you. Roberts and I shall see to all this baggage. I shall meet you at Buford House. Farewell!”
“Caroline, my dear,” said Mrs. Albertine Buford as she embraced her daughter-in-law and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Mrs. Buford—I mean, Mother Buford, I am glad to be here,” answered Caroline. She then looked beyond the old woman and gasped.
“I see you have noticed our little surprise, yes?” Mother Buford said with a smile. Standing in the sitting room were Louisa Hurst and Jane Bingley. Caroline dashed to embrace her sisters with tears in her eyes.
After exchanging kisses and tears, Caroline asked about her brothers. “They will join us at dinner, will they not, Louisa?” answered Jane as she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. “They wanted us to have a bit of time to ourselves. But there is someone who wishes very much to see you.” She turned to a maid who was holding Susan Bingley. Caroline’s tears were redoubled as she took her goddaughter in her arms.
The physician was requested two days later, and Caroline received him in her bedroom. “Congratulations, my lady,” said Mr. Wexley as he finished his examination. “You are indeed with child and everything seems to be progressing well.”
Caroline could not decide whether or not she was happy. “When will the baby come, Mr. Wexley?”
“Oh, I believe we should look for the happy event somewhere around the first week of November. Nothing to worry about now. Do not tire yourself, and eat well. That is my usual recommendation. Your confinement will not be for some time yet.” He paused and looked hard at her. “I must say, after everything you say you went through on your journey home, well… if there was any danger, it is passed already.”
An hour later, Caroline shared the news with the Buford ladies. Both were delighted with Caroline’s report and showered the expectant mother with kind words and affection. Though she found it hard to believe, Caroline was coming to the opinion that the two ladies actually liked her.
The response of Louisa and Jane was as joyful as expected. Charles was silly, and even Hurst said something kind. The Buford, Bingley, and Hurst families were sitting down to tea when the Darcys were announced.
Mother Buford noticed Caroline’s mood. She leaned over and whispered, “Good friends are like good wine— they should be enjoyed at every occasion. Life is too short to stand upon propriety, my dear, especially in times like these.”
Lady Buford considered her mother-in-law thoughtfully.
A miserable Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam rode slowly through the town of Hunsford towards Rosings Park. As he passed the Clarke household, he barely acknowledged the wave of welcome from the inhabitants.
Richard’s uncharacteristic bitterness sprung from his expectations for his short visit. Whitehall had been most desirous of his return to duty, and it had taken much of Lord Matlock’s influence to secure this short leave. Richard was exceedingly thankful for his father’s efforts, for he could not bear to sail to the Continent with his regiment without first taking his leave of Anne. That meant admitting his feelings for his cousin, but the earl and the viscount had chosen to be kind rather than caustic. Richard knew well his hypocrisy; he loved nothing more than to tease, but he had little tolerance for it being aimed in his direction.
Richard was melancholy enough at leaving Anne now, just as he finally knew his heart, but to face her gatekeeper again—his harridan of an aunt—after their last interview was a price painful to pay. But pay he must if he meant to say good-bye to his beloved.
Within a few minutes, he passed the parsonage and saw the Reverend Mr. Collins attending his garden.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam!” he cried, “how good to see you again so soon. What a pleasure it is to have the company of such an august gentleman as yourself, unselfishly serving our king…”
Richard allowed the man to prattle on. The vicar meant well, and Mrs. Collins was a good friend to Anne. Within a few minutes, the lady of the house came out to join them. “Colonel, you are welcome indeed! Please take a few moments to step inside and take your ease.”
Something in Mrs. Collins’s demeanor encouraged Richard to agree to her suggestion. Richard knew he had
