Pemberley Ranch (6 page)

“Mother!” “Cate!” The two cried together.

“I do not understand why you two are so opposed to marriage! You’re second cousins—surely there’s nothing unseemly about that! Besides, you would finally reunite Pemberley with the B&R.”

Anne hid her face in her hands. “Mother, please.”

Darcy gave Anne a sympathetic look before addressing his cousin by marriage. “Do we have to go through this again? I’ve
told you—I love Anne like a sister, but I want no closer relationship with her, and she feels the same.”

“But the land! You would control all of Long Branch County!”

“Great-Grandfather Darcy split up the land for a reason— Pemberley for Grandfather George and Rosings for Great-Aunt Elizabeth—and I’ve no desire to undo what he did.”

“That has nothing to do with anything. That is not a reason to defy my wishes.”

“And Anne’s wishes? What about them?”

“Anne will do as she’s told,” Catherine demanded.

With a sob, Anne fled from the room. Darcy watched her go before rising to his feet, fury painted in broad strokes across his face.

“Why do you do that?” he demanded. “Why do you diminish her at every turn? She’s your daughter, madam!”

“How dare you speak to me that way? Indeed, she’s my daughter, and you’ve nothing to say about how things are done in my house! Until you marry Anne, she lives here, follows my rules, and you can keep your opinions to yourself!”

Darcy sat down, working to control his temper. He had no desire to wed Anne, but he did wish to broaden her rather limited horizons. He had to be at his convincing best. “Please pardon my outburst, Cate. You’re right—this is your house. Whatever our disagreements may be, I’d like it if Anne kept a close relationship with Gaby.”

“Her name is Gabrielle, William. I despise pet names.”

Darcy seethed. “Be that as it may, I’d like my sister and Anne to spend more time together.”

Catherine nodded. “That is a suitable activity.”

Her smile was not lost on Darcy.
She’s thinking, no doubt, that any closer attachment between Anne and Gaby can do nothing but
further her goal of a union of Pemberley and the B&R. Poor, deluded fool! How could my cousin have married such a woman?

“Thank you. Perhaps they can see each other after church some Sunday soon, if the weather moderates?”

February

The weather stayed cold and windy for most of January. It wasn’t until the second week of February that the temperature rose. So it was that the Bennet women walked from the church that Sunday in a relatively balmy forty-five degrees towards the Bingley household. They would have accompanied Jane and Charles after services, but Mary delayed their departure, speaking at length to Reverend Tilney about the musical selections. Mrs. Bennet and the others were impatient to leave—Mr. Bennet having already ridden home to see to chores—but Beth saw what her mother did not, thankfully for Mary.

She sidled up to her sister during their short journey. “The reverend was
very
accommodating today, wasn’t he?” she teased.

It was not the air that caused her sister to blush. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” Mary stammered.

“Don’t worry,” her sister whispered in her ear. “I won’t let Mother know.”

Mary pretended ignorance. “Know what?”

Beth gave Mary a condescending look. “Mary, you can’t fool me. I know you like…
someone
.” If anything, Mary blushed brighter. With amusement, Beth added, “And I think he might like you, too.”

“Yeah,” Kathy agreed, who had been listening in.

Mary began coughing, which turned Mrs. Bennet’s attention from her discussion with Lily over the dresses favored by the other members of the congregation. She fussed over her middle daughter, claiming that she had certainly caught a cold, while Beth and Kathy shared a giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Lily demanded.

“Nothing,” Beth managed before giggling again.

Lily pouted. “No one tells me anything.”

“That’s because you’re the baby, and you don’t understand such things,” Kathy opined.

“I do too!” the youngest Bennet cried.

“What is this?” Mrs. Bennet turned from Mary. “What are you arguing about?”

Kathy crossed her arms. “Lily is being nosy again.”

Lily was indignant. “Am not! You’re keeping secrets from me again. It’s not fair!”

“Now, Lily…” Beth tried to placate her, but was interrupted.

“It isn’t. But just you wait. One day, I’ll have a secret to keep from all of you. The biggest secret in the world! And I won’t tell any of you a thing!”

Mrs. Bennet hushed her daughter. “Stop it, all of you! Do you have no compassion for my nerves?”

“Oh! You always take her side!” cried Kathy.

In this manner the five women continued to their destination, earning not a few curious stares from the townspeople they passed along the way, only ceasing the complaining once Mrs. Bennet reached the Bingleys’ small porch. The door was opened within moments of her knock by Dr. Bingley, as if his mother-in-law’s action was anticipated.

The Bennet ladies entered the small sitting room, used
during the day as a waiting room for patients, only to find it was already occupied. Beth, for one, was so stunned by the identities of the visitors she cried out.

“
Mr. Darcy?
”

Indeed, the owner of Pemberley Ranch was standing by the settee, a cup of coffee perilously balanced in one large hand, next to two fashionably dressed women. Beth recognized them as Miss Gaby Darcy and Miss Anne Burroughs. Jane was in a chair next to them, obviously in the middle of an interrupted conversation, and all wore expressions of astonishment at Beth’s outburst.

Charles stepped forward. “I believe y’all know Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Miss Burroughs. We were pleasantly surprised when they dropped by right after we got home.”

The Bennet ladies confirmed that they had met the Darcys but said they were not acquainted with Miss Burroughs, though they had often seen her in church. The introductions were made, Miss Burroughs lingering with Beth and Mary, while Jane and Gaby entertained the others. Beth could see Lily and Kathy openly staring at the Darcys as if they were creatures on display. For the first time, she regretted George Whitehead apprising them of the Darcys’ colorful background.

“I understand from your sister that you play, Miss Beth, and that you and your sisters sing very well,” Anne managed to say, keeping her eyes lowered.

Beth laughed. “Not very well—my sister is obviously having fun at my expense.” She noticed Mary’s hurt look and quickly added, “But Mary here is the musician of the family.”
Now that Jane has left us—and a poor substitute she is,
she added to herself.

Mary puffed up, pleased at the compliment. “I would love to hear you play, Miss Burroughs.”

“
Me
?” the girl squeaked. “Oh, no, Miss Mary, I don’t play!” Anne’s face turned from white to red, and the other two ladies were mortified.

It was Darcy who came to her rescue. “It’s true Anne doesn’t play, but my sister does, and the two of them have sung some very pretty duets in their time.” If anything, the compliment seemed to embarrass Anne even more.

The four of them stood about in an awkward silence, none knowing what to say next. Beth could not stop glancing at Darcy’s dark good looks. Finally, Darcy broke the impasse.

“It seems we’ve intruded on a family get-together, Charles. We’ll take our leave.”

Despite Mrs. Bennet’s halfhearted protests, and Jane’s sincere ones, the three outsiders made their goodbyes and moved towards the door. Just as Charles was opening it, Darcy turned to Beth.

“Ah, Miss Beth, I almost forgot the message I wanted to give you the next time we met.”

“Oh?” Beth’s eyebrow rose, expecting a renewal of her banishment from Pemberley.

“I’ve let my riders know that you have permission to ride across Pemberley if you take a fancy to cross the Long Branch again.”

The unexpected civility shocked the girl. “Oh! I… I thank you, Mr. Darcy. That’s kind of you.”

He shrugged. “You won’t be a bother to anyone, so it’s quite all right. I’ve described your horse to my men, so they’ll keep an eye out for you, to make sure you don’t get into any trouble.” A strange expression lit his face. “I’m sure your horse—Turner, isn’t it? Turner is itching to run all over creation after the winter we’ve had.”

The condescension in the first part of his reply destroyed whatever pleasure she felt at his kindness, but the second part puzzled her. Why would
he
care about her horse? “Yes, you’re right,” she said. “Turner is nothing if not spirited.”

Darcy almost grinned, as if he knew a secret. “Yes, I would suppose so—a paint named Turner.”

Beth had a sinking feeling in her stomach. “What?”

“Turner. Named after J.M.W. Turner
²
, the British landscape artist, right?”

Beth’s jaw dropped as Lily laughed. “Ha, ha, ha! Someone finally got your silly joke, Beth! You should see your face!”

An amused Darcy escorted his charges out the door with a parting shot. “Interesting name. A rather controversial choice for a young lady, given that he died in his mistress’s house, wouldn’t you say?” Without waiting for a response, he was out the door.

Beth stared at the closed door while Mrs. Bennet demanded who Beth knew that was keeping mistresses, and Kathy and Lily giggled in each other’s arms. Jane walked over and put her arm around her sister.

“Have you finally met your match, Beth? Mr. Darcy’s very clever.”

“Insufferable, you mean!” Beth proclaimed. She turned to the room, determined to think of his tall form no more.

²
Joseph Mallord William Turner (23 April 1775–19 December 1851) was an English Romantic landscape painter, watercolorist, and printmaker, whose style can be said to have laid the foundation for Impressionism. Although Turner was considered a controversial figure in his day, he is now regarded as the artist who elevated landscape painting to an eminence rivaling history painting.

March

T
HE SHORT PERIOD BETWEEN
winter and summer in Central Texas—called “spring” in many parts of the country—finally arrived in Rosings, encouraging its denizens to leave their houses for reasons other than chores and church. Wednesday was the traditional shopping day for the Bennets, both in Meryton and Rosings. Fanny Bennet was never one to pass up the opportunity to see and be seen, gossip and be gossiped about, and inquire in intimate detail about any new item available for sale in any shop without the least intention of purchasing any of them. Since she was never a great reader, it was her favorite diversion besides visiting with her married daughter.

Mrs. Bennet may have wished for all the finery in the world, but she was as tight as any good farm wife. Her mother had been a spendthrift, and after living hand-to-mouth until her marriage, Fanny Gardiner swore
she
would never have to worry for money again, and she made sure of that when considering a potential husband. Tom Bennet had proved to be not only a
caring companion but also a dutiful provider, and she trusted him utterly with their finances. She managed to live within her allowance, praying that Tom’s promises of a better life would come true someday.

However, this Wednesday was different, as it was left to Beth and Mary to shop for the week’s provisions. Mrs. Bennet had come down with a cold and taken to her bed at her son-in-law’s instruction. The presence of Kathy and Lily was required to wash the clothes and wait upon their mother. Beth and Mary took the wagon to the Bingleys’ to collect their sister before continuing into town.

Beth had to admit to herself that things in Texas weren’t as bad as she’d feared. It was a beautiful place. The summers could be unbearably hot, but after a lifetime of Ohio winters, she could manage with a little sweating if that meant she didn’t have to walk through knee-high snowdrifts. The wide, open plains enchanted her. She never dreamed the sky could be so wide or the land so vast. She loved to point Turner in whatever direction beckoned and just run wild.

As for adjusting to the locals, that took longer. The populace was far more diverse than Beth had ever experienced. She had never before met a slave, much less someone from Mexico. It was both exhilarating and frightening. She found the townspeople to be closed and suspicious—not open and friendly to her as in Meryton. Only Reverend Tilney was unreserved from the beginning. The Bennets’ association with George Whitehead seemed to garner only deference, not amity. But once Beth had made friends with Charlotte Lucas, the town opened up a bit more for her. Beth sometimes felt that by befriending the sheriff’s daughter, she had passed some test, and the strange,
nagging feeling of unsettledness whenever she met with the townsfolk faded.

Beth and Mary were soon at the Bingleys, and once Jane had climbed onboard, Mary suggested that they go by the rectory. “Perhaps Reverend Tilney needs our assistance,” she mentioned with what she thought was a straight face. Beth nearly laughed out loud.

Jane was all that was sweet and good, but she was not as quick as Beth. “Assistance? With what? Is something wrong? Is he unwell?”

Mary blushed. “No, no! I… I just thought as he has no sister or… wife, that he may need our help in, well, umm… shopping for provisions… or something.” Beth could no longer contain her mirth, causing a mortified Mary to stutter a disavowal of her suggestion. Jane caught on and, reaching out to take the red-faced girl’s hand in hers, declared Mary’s intention to be a noble one and that the three of them should proceed at once to the church.

It turned out that the preacher was not otherwise occupied and was very grateful for the Bennets’ offer to help him restock his larder. As the church was in the center of town, the wagon was left there, and the small party strolled to Zimmerman’s General Store.

Carl Zimmerman was the son of German immigrants whose family had moved to Rosings when he was a child. He inherited the family store before the war after traveling back east to meet, marry, and bring back Helga, his wife by arranged marriage. As gregarious as he was short, the popular storekeeper had served as the mayor of Rosings for almost ten years. It was mainly a ceremonious position; his only power had been the Mayor’s Court, and that had been taken away by the occupation
government. All judicial authority in Texas was now wielded by appointees, who were invariably loyal to the governor. In Long Branch County, Texas native Judge Alton Phillips was still in office only because of an advantageous switching of his political affiliation to the Republican Party.

So, except for the speech given each year on the Second of March—Texas Independence Day, the date the Republic of Texas declared its break from Santa Anna’s Mexico—Mayor Zimmerman was essentially a shopkeeper.

The ladies and gentleman entered the store only to have their ears assaulted by strong words uttered loudly. All attention was called to the long counter that bisected the room where the slight storeowner was berating a black woman wearing a light-colored dress with a blue apron, a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head.

“Now, I told you not to come in by the front door!” Zimmerman’s face was flushed with anger as he shook a finger in the woman’s face. “If you want something, come by the back door. The back door!” he emphasized by pointing with that finger.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” the woman mumbled.

“I tell you and I tell you, but you won’t listen! You understand English, eh? Understand this, Mrs. Washington—front door for whites only!”

Beth was aghast and mortified at the woman’s treatment. Allowing her eyes to escape the distressing scene, she noted a couple in a corner of the store by the front window. She was startled to see it was Mr. and Miss Darcy, both wearing disgusted expressions.

“But,” the woman addressed as Mrs. Washington stuttered, “I seen Mrs. Gomez come in here—”

“Are you back-talking me, woman?” Zimmerman demanded. “Go to the back door! If you don’t like that, maybe I don’t sell you anything, eh?”

“No, no! I need my order… got money. I… I’ll go—around back, okay?”

Just then, Tilney stepped forward. “Here, that’s enough of that!” He walked up to the pair.

Zimmerman looked up. “Eh? Reverend Tilney, what do you want?”

He ignored the shopkeeper and addressed the woman. “Mrs. Washington, how do you do?”

“Fine, Reverend Tilney, just fine.”

Zimmerman broke in. “I was just telling her that she has to go ’round back, Reverend.”

Mary could stand for no more. “And why is that?”

Before Zimmerman could respond to her, Tilney broke in. “Miss Mary! We must remember this is Mr. Zimmerman’s store, and as such, he makes the rules.” He threw a glare at the shop owner before turning to Mrs. Washington. “May I escort you around to the back, madam?”

The humiliated woman waved him off. “Oh, no, Reverend Tilney, I can find my own way. Don’t bother yourself.”

Tilney smiled. “Very well. I’ll be expecting you at church this Sunday. We haven’t seen y’all there yet.”

Mrs. Washington smiled. “Thank you kindly for the invite, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“All are welcomed in God’s house.”

She thought for a moment. “Then we’ll be there. Thank you again.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she walked out of the store.

Zimmerman was troubled. “Preacher, you’re inviting slaves to services?”

Tilney turned to him. “Are you questioning the way I run the church?”

“I
am
on the board committee,” Zimmerman’s brows dipped.

Just then, Darcy approached the men. “Excuse me, but I was wondering if my order was ready?” Darcy wore a completely blank expression, as if the confrontation had not occurred.

Zimmerman was all that was amiable to Rosings’s most affluent customer. “Yes, sir, Mr. Darcy. Just step this way.” Zimmerman scampered behind the counter and walked quickly to the far end. Darcy turned to follow, begging the others’ pardon once more.

“Well,” said Beth under her breath, “he’s certainly the lord and master ’round here!”

Tilney cocked one eyebrow. “He was here before us, Miss Beth. We can wait our turn.”

Mary was about to have her share of the conversation, but she was caught by the intense look on Mr. Zimmerman’s face as Darcy spoke to him. The tone was far too low for her to hear, but the effect was instantaneous. The shopkeeper almost ran to the back door, his face, if anything, redder than before.

“My mistake,” Darcy drawled to his sister, “apparently, we have a customer before us.”

The altercation had put all of them off their proposed shopping expedition. Beth and the others gathered on the front porch, taking in the town for several minutes. The front door opened, and Miss Darcy walked out followed by her brother, his arms filled with packages.

“Gaby, you wait here while I put these in the wagon,” Darcy advised. Tilney and Jane immediately walked over to keep her
company while her brother finished his task, the Bennet sisters following in their wake.

“How do you do today, Miss Gaby?” Jane said. The girl exchanged greetings with everyone before discussing the weather until Darcy rejoined them.

Mary was waiting for this opportunity. “Miss Darcy! I was talking to Reverend Tilney earlier and expressed the desire to improve the church choir.”

“That sounds like a very noble undertaking, Miss Mary,” the girl said.

“Perhaps you would be interested in joining us?”

Gaby Darcy blushed. “Oh! Oh, I… I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m not a member of the church.”

“Uhh, Mary—” Tilney began, but the girl overrode him.

“Well, that’s easily taken care of. If your brother is too busy to bring you to services, perhaps I can speak to my father. It would be no trouble for us to take you.”

“Mary!” Tilney hissed. Darcy began to frown.

Mary continued as if Tilney said nothing and turned to the rancher. “But you should go, Mr. Darcy! You need to be in church. All the money in the world won’t do you a bit of good in the afterlife if you ignore God’s words. Remember, the Good Book says, ‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.’”

Beth noticed Miss Gaby blanch, as Darcy’s face grew very red.
Heavens, the man is furious!
However, when Darcy spoke, it was with deceptive calmness.

“Thank you for the warning, Miss Bennet. Rest assured that both my sister and I take Our Savior’s words very seriously and
do well to remember them in church every Sunday. Come along, Gaby.” The Darcys walked away towards their carriage.

“Church?” Mary looked at Tilney, who held his hand over his eyes. “But… but they don’t—”

Jane took Mary by the arm. “That’s enough. You don’t know what you’re saying. The Darcys attend church every Sunday.”

Even Beth was bewildered. “Where?”

Tilney lowered his hand. “At the mission across the river. The Darcys are Catholic.”

Now it was Beth’s turn to go pale, for just then the Darcy carriage rolled by, Darcy stone-faced while an unhappy Miss Darcy held a handkerchief in her lap.

Mary grasped Tilney by the arm and cried, “Catholics! Oh, my! Reverend Goldring back in Meryton said that Catholics weren’t really Christians and that it’s our duty to save their souls.”

The pair in the carriage started—Mary’s voice had carried over the sound of the wheels—and the preacher lost his temper.

“Miss Mary, that’s foolish talk!” Mary bit back a sob as Tilney fought to control his annoyance and wait until the Darcys were out of earshot. “Miss Mary, religious study is a wonderful thing. It’s been my honor and pleasure to read and ponder the words given to us by Our Maker. But, before you quote scripture again, I would suggest you consider this passage: ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’”

If Tilney intended his statement to be a gentle correction, the result was not as he planned. Mary’s face screwed up, and she threw herself bawling into Jane’s arms. The good reverend looked helplessly at Jane and Beth.

It was Jane who came to the rescue. “I believe we all could use a bit of tea, don’t you think? Shall we repair back to the house?”

Tilney seized upon the proposal. “Excellent idea, Mrs. Bingley. But may I suggest that the parsonage is closer? I would be happy to have
all
of you as my guests.” He gave Mary a most particular glance.

It served. Drying her eyes, Mary nodded and the party walked back to the church.