“I’m ready to break my fast,” Mrs. Joseph boldly declared. “I kindly tell Mr. Joseph that eating for two is a tiring occupation.” The woman accepted her husband’s assistance.

Mr. Joseph braced his wife’s weight. “This journey’s been difficult for you, my dear. We should’ve thought better of it.”

“Mother Joseph is ill,” she explained. “We could do nothing else. Our consciences demanded it. I don’t regret any discomfort we’ve experienced.” She smiled sweetly at her husband. “We must think of it as an adventure.” Mrs. Joseph laughed lightly. “Besides, we’ve made the acquaintance of the Darcys, and I, for one, cannot imagine how our journey would have been without them.We’d be picking straw from our hair and worse without their charity.”

Resigning himself to her logic, Joseph sighed deeply. “I was quite warm last evening — a much better situation than I expected when Mr. Washington announced a lack of rooms.”

“Then let’s learn of our new friends, Matthew. I want to genuinely call Mr. and Mrs. Darcy by that designation.”



“Miss De Bourgh.” Southland bowed from the library’s entrance. “I beg your pardon. Mr. Nathan said I might find the colonel here.”

Anne De Bourgh looked up tentatively. “I believe my cousin planned to check the road conditions. He’ll return shortly.”

The man eyed her with an interest Anne rarely experienced. He actually appeared to seek a conversation with her. “Would I be disturbing you, Miss, if I waited with you for the colonel’s return?”

Anne shot a quick glance at her long-time companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, and with a nod, the lady silently agreed. Swallowing her initial shyness, Anne managed, “Certainly, Lieutenant. Would you care for tea?” She gestured to the pot on a nearby serving table. As he slowly approached the chair where she remained seated, Anne fought for composure. She couldn’t remember the last time a gentleman had sought her company.

“That would be quite pleasant, Miss De Bourgh.” He took the seat across from her. “Dark English tea was one of the things I missed the most while serving in America. People do not brew a proper cup of tea anywhere but on our shores.”

Anne nodded to the cream and sugar, but Southland declined with a shake of his head. “Have you traveled extensively, Lieutenant?” she asked. To the best of her memory, this was the first time in over a decade that she had entertained a gentleman without her mother’s structuring the conversation, and Anne wondered how she was doing. Silly as it seemed, she hoped Lieutenant Southland didn’t find her a complete ninny.

“More than I care to think, Miss. Mostly, I’ve spent time in the East… at least, until I took on the role as the colonel’s aide. America, even with its less civilized circumstances, was a more obliging situation than were Persia and India. The States have a common thread — a very British thread — flowing through the countryside. The Americans may oppose our rule, but they practice our language, our religions, and our system of government.”

As indecision crossed her countenance, Anne questioned, “And do not our British colonies offer similar values?”

Southland’s gaze appraised her cautiously. “No, Miss De Bourgh. Even though we’ve colonized other lands, only North America has assumed our culture and made it its own.”

Intrigued by his opinions, Anne’s eyes narrowed as she seriously considered his words. “Would you consider returning to the Americas, Lieutenant? I mean, after the war. Is there something unique that would impel your return?” Foolishly, she prayed he wouldn’t mention another woman.

“Oh, no, Miss De Bourgh,” he said emphatically.“I’m more than happy to have my feet planted firmly on British soil.” He slanted a quick glance her way. “If I received orders to ship out to America, I’d go, of course, but I’d prefer to finish my duties in England.”

“Finish?” Anne returned her cup to its saucer. “Do you plan to leave the service, Sir?”

The lieutenant’s grin widened. “As we have Napoleon on Elba, I don’t anticipate a need for my role much longer. I’ll leave with what salary is due me. At this time, I’ve not considered a settlement.” He said slowly, “My father would prefer that I marry and set up my nursery.”

Anne blushed thoroughly. Although her own thoughts had drifted to marriage, she still thought herself doomed to spend her life alone. She needed no reminder of the barrenness of her existence. “A marriage often solves a young man’s future,” she said softly.

“At five and twenty, it would appear that I should consider my father’s advice.”

“Where do you call home, Lieutenant?” Mrs. Jenkinson finally asked from her position across the room. As Anne’s companion, she would normally curtail her intercourse with those her employer entertained, but Anne had sent the woman a pleading glance, and luckily, Mrs. Jenkinson had turned the conversation from the marriage topic.

“Outside of Lewes, on the way to Hailsham, Ma’am.” His voice held a familiar inflection. “You must forgive me, Miss De Bourgh. I confess that I hold an acquaintance with Rosings Park. My father’s first cousin was Mr. Knight, Mr. Collins’s predecessor. Knight often wrote to my father of the comings and goings of Hunsford, and I’ve seen Rosings Park on several occasions… at least, I’m familiar with the estate’s gatehouse.”

“Is my cousin, the colonel, aware of your connection to our family?” Anne asked suspiciously.

A mischievous smile expressed his admission even before the lieutenant pronounced the words. “Aye, Miss. The colonel quickly recognized my curiosity regarding the Right Honorable Lady Catherine De Bourgh and Rosings Park, and I confessed the connection, weak as it may be. The good colonel then humored me by regaling me with tales of Hunsford and Her Ladyship. Of you, also, Miss De Bourgh.”

Anne frowned with disbelief. “The colonel spoke of me? Surely, you must be mistaken.”

“I assure you, Miss De Bourgh, that Colonel Fitzwilliam included you in his retellings. Generally, he spoke of your childhood… of his and Mr. Darcy’s tormenting their female cousin and the girl’s father taking them to task for their unkindness. The colonel regretted his participation… in hindsight, that is.”

Anne said incredulously, “Boys have no compassion.”

“I cannot concur, Miss De Bourgh. Boys simply see the world from a narrower scope. They don’t consider their actions’ consequences,” he said smoothly. “Yet, the colonel also spoke of his delicate cousin Anne whose smile could light up a room if she only cared to share it with others.”

His words utterly stunned Anne. “You jest, Lieutenant. It’s unkind to tease me, Sir. I cannot conceive of Edward verbalizing such thoughts.”

“Yet he did, Miss De Bourgh. Your cousin holds you in the highest regard.”


Lieutenant Roman Southland knew full well his words’ effect on the spinster Miss De Bourgh. He had made it his business to become well versed with the De Bourgh family. As a child, he’d heard his cousin speak of Rosing Park’s grandeur, of Sir Lewis’s affability, and of the bounty and beneficence the bestowing of a valuable rectory had had on the Southland family.

When the colonel’s aide-de-camp’s position had become available, Southland had actively pursued it. From the beginning, he’d felt an affinity with the colonel, and even with the past year’s dangers on the American continent, Roman hadn’t regretted his alliance with the Fitzwilliam and De Bourgh families. Somehow, unconsciously, he felt that he belonged with them.