Jack Caldwell - Pemberley Ranch

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.

March

The 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.