“He is a friend of the family.”

“Yes. A clever man, for a clerk. He does some work for me. You see, I do not hold any grudges over the late unpleasantness. We must all look forward under the new order. This land has been in the family for over three generations, and I have every intention of passing it along to my dear Anne, intact and improved, when the time comes, of course. I hope your father has his affairs in order. Who is to inherit, may I ask?”

Beth was taken aback. “Mrs. Burroughs, I hardly know. My father is in good health, and the topic hasn’t come up in conversation over our dinner table.”

“It should. One should always be prepared for the unexpected. I only ask to see if your father is forward enough in his thinking to make one or more of his daughters his heir. I cannot abide the primitive practice of descent along the male line. The Burroughses never did.”

An incredulous Beth glanced over at Anne, but her friend was not puzzled over her mother’s behavior. She only looked resigned. Beth decided to try to change the subject.

“I understand you’re related to the Darcy family,” she said.

“Yes. Old George Darcy was Anne’s great-grandfather. At his death, he divided his land along the Long Branch River. This side, originally called Rosings, went to his only daughter, Elizabeth Darcy Burroughs. The other side, Pemberley, was George Washington Darcy’s, her brother. There were two other brothers, Harry and Richard Darcy, but they moved west to California where their descendants reside today. I have no idea why Mr. Darcy broke up his ranch into two parts. It makes very little sense to me.”

Beth thought about what she knew. George Whitehead told her GW Darcy had been involved with an Indian woman. Did his father punish him by giving away half the land to his sister? Why only half—why not disinherit him altogether? It was not a question she could ask Mrs. Burroughs.

“My husband, Lewis, was the heir of Rosings. We changed the name to B&R shortly after our marriage. We also built this house.”

“It is very beautiful, ma’am.”

“Thank you. We wanted a house worthy of the land and our position. I believe we accomplished it. Now, tell me of this musical society of yours. My daughter attends along with her cousin, Gabrielle Darcy. Who are the other members?”

“My sisters and Charlotte Lucas.”

“The sheriff’s daughter. A good sort of girl. A pity she’s so plain. Do you all play?”

“My sisters, Mary and Jane Bingley, do, as does Miss Darcy.” Beth almost said Gaby and was glad she caught herself. Something told her that Mrs. Burroughs would not be happy to learn that she was on a first-name basis with the lady’s cousin. “Miss Darcy is the best, I think.”

“Oh!” Anne piped in for the first time. “But Jane—Mrs. Bingley, I mean—plays very well, too, Mother.”

Mrs. Burroughs gave her daughter a cold look. “I am sure she is competent, but need I remind you that Gabrielle has studied for many years under her own tutor? I believe Miss Bennet has the right of it—Gabrielle is the most accomplished.” She turned to Beth, and in a tone that would brook no opposition, asked, “Is that not so, Miss Bennet?”

Beth was mortified at the way Anne was treated. “You… you are right, ma’am.” She took a sip of the now-cool tea to soothe her nerves. While she did so, it occurred to Beth that she needed to get out of the old dragon’s presence before she lost her temper and said something she would regret.

She set the cup down. “Mrs. Burroughs, I beg that you excuse me. I wish to clean up and rest after my journey here. Perhaps later Anne might show me around.”

“Of course, Miss Bennet, I certainly understand. I will have Bartholomew show you to your room.”

“Mother, I would be happy to help Miss Beth. And there is something particular I want to show her. May I, please?”

“I would like that very much, if that is all right with you,” Beth added.

Mrs. Burroughs seemed pleased that Beth had deferred to her. “I am very glad that you have become a friend to my daughter, Miss Bennet. It shall be as you wish.” The grand lady stood up, dismissing the other two. “Dinner is at six.”

“I hope Mother didn’t offend you,” a worried Anne asked as the two ladies walked to her room.

“Not at all,” Beth lied. The woman had deeply offended her, but she would keep it to herself rather than distress poor Anne. Beth was afraid the shy thing would break down at any time. “What is it you want to show me?”

Anne opened the door. “In here.” Beth followed her friend into a well-appointed bedroom to see a four-poster bed covered in ball dresses. Anne bit her lip as Beth gawked.

“I want you to take your pick,” Anne said. “For the party. I’d like you to pick a dress for the party, if you want.”

Beth wandered over to the bed, her fingers touching the soft fabric, her eyes delighting in the rainbow of colors. She knew none of her own dresses were as fine. Lace, silk, taffeta… she shook her head. “Anne, I don’t know how I can accept…”

“You don’t have to, you know. But I thought you may want to try one on. I’ve got so many, I… I thought it would be fun.”

Beth turned to Anne. “We’re not exactly the same size, you know.”

Anne blushed. “I know you’re… more endowed than I am.” It was Beth’s turn to blush. “But one of our maids is an excellent seamstress, and I just know she can make any alterations we need.” She looked down. “Please, Beth. I don’t have a sister to share these things with me. I’d really like it. Would you please?”

Beth’s last resistance to the gesture broke down. “Very well. But I can’t promise any will look as good on me as they undoubtedly look on you.”

A broad smile broke out on Anne’s face. “Let’s find out! I’ll call for Bertha now.”

An hour later, Beth looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror as she modeled a dress of pink silk and lace. “That is very nice,” Bertha the maid observed.

“I don’t know,” mumbled Anne.

“Anne,” cried Beth, “this is the sixth dress I’ve tried on. They’re all beautiful! I’d be happy with any of them.”

“But they’re not right! Are they, Bertha?”

“Do you have something else in mind, Miss Anne?” the maid asked.

“Don’t you think Beth would look best in a darker color?”

Bertha nodded. “Yes… but all these dresses are in light shades.”

A gleam was in Anne’s eye. “Wait right here.” She turned and reached into a closet while Bertha helped Beth out of the pink dress. When Beth turned, Anne was holding a blue dress. “Try this one, Beth.”

Beth admired the dress. It was dark blue silk with silver embroidery. It was the most beautiful dress Beth had ever seen.

“Oh, no, Anne, I couldn’t!”

The heiress would not take no for an answer. A few minutes later, Beth was twirling before the mirror, Anne clapping in delight. “Oh, it’s perfect! It’s perfect! Just like he—like I said it would be!”

Beth did not pay close attention to Anne’s words, for she was mesmerized by the dress. The dark shade set off her pale complexion while complementing her hair. It felt like a dream, and it moved as if it were alive. She felt like a princess.