Darcy stared out into the crowd, his hands stiffly behind his back. “To tell him would be boasting, Charles, and I can’t abide a braggart. When a man does a kindness, it should be for kindness’ sake alone. I couldn’t allow Sally to take advantage of the man, but he doesn’t need to know about it. Expecting gratitude for a gift is… unseemly.”

Bingley sighed at his friend’s intransigence. The man’s moral code was a bit over-the-top at times. “Like your cousin, Catherine Burroughs?”

Darcy’s grim demeanor cracked a bit as his lips twitched. “Exactly.”

“Where is she, anyway?”

“You didn’t really expect her here?” Darcy was amused. “The wedding of a doctor to a farmer’s daughter? She’d sooner go to a rodeo. And she keeps Anne away, too. A shame—she has few friends, and it would do her good to know somebody like your wife.”

“You’ve been very good to Jane.”

“We enjoyed her company at Pemberley last week. She’s kind and charming. Gaby likes her very well.”

Bingley smiled. “Her sisters are fine girls, too.” He was surprised Darcy lost his smile. “Will, you don’t disapprove of them, do you?”

Darcy grunted. “Charles, I can say nothing against Mrs. Bingley, but the rest of her family? You’re not blind, man. Look at them! The two youngest are incorrigible flirts, the middle one is a bluestocking if ever I’ve seen one, and the mother is impossible. Why, you should have heard the impudent questions she put to Gaby, all within a minute of meeting her! I barely held my composure.”

“I’m sure you did,” Bingley laughed. “They’re very nice people, Will; they’re just a bit… boisterous. There’s not a mean bone in their bodies. Once you get to know ’em, you’ll see.”

“And why should I do that?”

Charles frowned. “They’re my family now, Will. You’ll be in their company in the future if you’re goin’ to be in mine. I won’t throw off my wife’s family.”

Darcy had the good manners to look abashed. “You’re right, Charles. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know Miz Bennet can talk a blue streak, but she don’t mean anything by it. It’s just her way. ’Sides, you can’t say anything bad about Mr. Bennet, or Beth.”

“She’s a bit of a tomboy, isn’t she?”

Bingley shrugged. “She grew up on a farm, Will. What did you expect?” He elbowed his friend with a grin. “She sure cleaned up nice, though. Almost as pretty as my Jane.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. Yes, Beth Bennet looked very pretty in a proper lady’s dress. But he couldn’t get out of his mind the way her dungarees showed her backside to advantage in the saddle…

Bingley’s low voice cut in. “Uhh, Will, don’t look now, but Whitehead’s talking to Gaby.”

Darcy’s eyes flew to his sister. Halfway across the room, George Whitehead had engaged Jane Bingley and Gaby Darcy in conversation. Jane was as polite as ever, but Gaby wore a slightly panicked expression.

“God dammit!” growled Darcy under his breath.

Bingley was grim. “I didn’t want to invite that son-of-a-bitch, but he’s a friend of Mr. Bennet’s. I couldn’t say no without causin’ a ruckus, and then I’d have to explain—”

“I understand, Charles. Nothing you could do. You’d think that no-good dog would stay away from her, after the last time.”

Bingley glanced at Darcy. “You’re not goin’ to cause trouble, are you? Whitehead’s pretty popular ’round here.”

“Then folks need to make better friends.” Darcy took a breath and slowly and resolutely walked over to his sister, Bingley trailing behind. His stare would have burned a hole into George Whitehead’s face. His target was aware of the scrutiny, the sardonic look he returned an obvious challenge. Fists clenched, Darcy stopped a couple of feet away.

“Good afternoon, Darcy,” said Whitehead with seeming affability. “I see you managed to tear yourself away from your ranch and grace us with your presence. We’ve greatly missed you and your sister, who I can say is lovelier than ever. Wonderful day for a wedding, wouldn’t you say?”

Stone-faced, Darcy gestured at his sister, who quickly came to his side. “Mrs. Bingley, I beg your pardon.” He then turned his attention to the smirking man before him. In a low, calm voice, he said, “Whitehead, I told you to stay away from my family.”

Whitehead indicated the room. “But this is not Pemberley Ranch, this is Rosings. Your power doesn’t extend here. I’m appointed by Governor Davis, and last I heard, you are not he. I have legal authority in this county.”

“As recorder of deeds—a clerk—as long as General Reynolds’s puppet remains in office, which won’t be forever, from what I’ve heard. We’ve been readmitted to the Union, and all of us Texans now have the right to vote, as you’ll find out in a couple of years. Your army won’t be able to steal the election then. I’ll tell you one last time, Whitehead—stay away from my family. This is my final warning.”

“That sounds like a threat, Darcy.”

“A promise, Whitehead. Mrs. Bingley, again forgive me. C’mon, Gaby—we’re leaving.” Darcy took his sister lightly by the arm and turned away.

“I can have you arrested for threatening me,” Whitehead claimed, causing Darcy to look sideways at him.

“You can try. You come on by Pemberley, and you’ll learn my boys will be waiting for you. You and your hired killers.” He gestured at the bar with his head before walking to the door, the crowd parting before him.

It may have been a Baptist wedding, but the bar was still open, and Fitz was enjoying a beer when he noted his boss across the room staring at someone. Instantly coming alert, he saw George Whitehead talking to Gaby Darcy. Fitz turned around, leaning his back against the bar, watching the action as Darcy walked over to his enemy. He noted a movement by a man down a ways from him.

From the corner of his eye he saw it was Kid Denny, a gunfighter supposedly working at the B&R Ranch, but Fitz knew better. The man was so intently watching the confrontation he didn’t notice at first Fitz moving towards him.

“Afternoon, Denny.” Fitz stopped next to him.

“Whatta ya want, Fitzwilliam?” the gunman demanded.

“Just bein’ neighborly. Nice day for a weddin’, ain’t it?”

“Get lost.” Denny turned back to the quiet confrontation, his hand slipping off the bar towards his gun belt.

In a deceptively friendly tone, Fitz said, “I wouldn’t do that, if’n I was you.”

Denny half turned back, his eyes quickly taking stock of Fitzwilliam. “Yeah? Big talk, mister, seein’ as you ain’t wearin’ your gun.”

Fitz chuckled. “Yeah, well, packin’ a gun seemed a rather unnecessary embellishment for a weddin’, at least for honest folks.”

“You better shut up, Fitzwilliam,” Denny snarled, “or I’ll shut ya up fur good.”

Fitz shook his head. “Tsk, tsk—ain’t no cause for being unsociable, Denny. Is there, José?”

“No, señor,” came a voice from Denny’s blind side. “We is all friends here, today.”

Denny whipped his head to see a large man grinning just behind him.

“You know José Estrada, don’t you, Denny?” Fitz smiled as he leaned on the bar. “No? He’s my Number Two at Pemberley. José, this here’s Kid Denny, ranch boss from the B&R. He considers himself to be some kinda gunfighter, which is why he’s got the lack o’ manners to bring a six-shooter into a weddin’ reception. Now, José here don’t need no gun, as he can pull your arm clear off without tryin’. Can’t you, José?”

José showed his teeth. “Sí, I can do that, Fitz, no problema. But I can shoot, too, you bet.”

Fitz’s eyes never left Denny’s face. “Peter, you find that shotgun behind the bar?”

“Oh, yeah, boss,” came another voice. Denny didn’t need to turn around to see that another Pemberley rider was behind him.

Denny gritted his teeth. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t ya?”

“I have my moments.” Fitz waved Sheriff Lucas over. “Sheriff, it seems Denny here’s weighted down by a big, heavy gun. It’s spoilin’ his drinkin’, ain’t it, Denny? Now, that don’t seem right, does it?”

Lucas looked at both men. “That’s enough of that, Fitz.” He held out his hand. “Denny, the sign outside clearly said ‘No Guns.’ Hand it over, an’ you can pick it up at the jail later.”

Denny hesitated before handing over his Colt. Lucas grunted, slipping the pistol into his waistband. “I don’t want any trouble from any of you, got it? Be on your way.”