Beth noticed that several of those assembled, Darcy being one, rolled their eyes or shuffled their feet during Whitehead’s recital. Whitehead then jumped ahead to the last section of the Declaration:


“We, therefore, the Representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.”


A restrained cheer went up, men donned their hats again, and the party commenced, as the band struck up “Hail Columbia” followed by “The Star Spangled Banner.” Gaby approached Beth, who had decided not to shun the girl because of her unpleasant brother. Beth, Anne, and Gaby spent a few minutes in pleasant conversation when the master of ceremonies, Mr. Zimmerman, called out for everyone to form up for the first dance.

George approached the group, and for a moment, Beth thought he was going to request a dance from her, but instead he claimed Anne’s hand. Beth could not decide if she was relieved or envious when she heard a low voice beside her.

“Miss Bennet, you do look lovely today.” She turned to behold Will Darcy. “Forgive me, but I promised this dance to Gaby. May I request another one?” His bright blue eyes discombobulated her.

“I… I…”

“The third one!” hissed Gaby with a twinkle in her eye.

Beth was puzzled. “The third dance?”

Darcy took it as agreement. “The third dance it is—thank you, Miss Beth. Gaby, shall we?”

Consternation gripped the girl, for she had violated her vow of ignoring Will Darcy within fifteen minutes of the start of the dance. “Hateful man!” she hissed to herself.

“Pardon me?” asked Billy Collins, who had at that moment appeared at her side.

“Oh! Mr. Collins, what can I do for you?” she said automatically. By the time her brain caught up with her mouth it was too late, and Beth took her place for the Grand March with Mr. Collins. The only good thing about it was she finished the dance without injury to her toes.

Another gentleman claimed the second dance, a Virginia reel, which was a favorite of Beth’s. Her joy increased as she saw that Reverend Tilney was still dancing with Mary, and that neither looked to be in any hurry to find other partners. Beth was giggling about the state of Mary’s affairs with Charlotte Lucas when they were approached by Darcy and Fitzwilliam.

“Our dance, I believe, Miss Beth.” His voice held an edge of humor in it, which Beth could not account for, but she could not refuse or turn to Charlotte for assistance. Her friend was already heading to the floor on Fitz’s arm, unmindful of the glare from Sheriff Lucas. Beth sighed and offered her hand to Darcy. It was only as they took their places that she realized the depths of Gaby’s treachery.

“The Viennese Waltz,” Zimmerman called out.

Beth blushed as Darcy took her hand. “I believe I know the steps, Mr. Darcy,” she said.

Darcy grinned, an unsettling sight to Beth. “I don’t doubt it. I remember our last dance very well.”

The music started, and they began to move with the others. Beth tried not to notice, but her body tingled at his touch. She could sense the strength of Darcy’s arms and the warmth of his body as he held her, smelled his cologne as they swirled around the dance floor, and was mesmerized by his good looks as their eyes met. His masculinity flooded her senses. She felt beautiful, as though she were floating in the sky, the music and the man utterly intoxicating her. Feeling lightheaded, she closed her eyes, part of her wishing it were over, another part hoping the dance would never end.

“Miss Beth?”

The spell broken, she looked up into Darcy’s face.

“The dance is done,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“Um… I feel a little faint. Perhaps I need to sit down.”

“Of course. Just this way.” With the utmost gentleness, Darcy guided Beth to a chair. After she was seated, he offered to bring her something to drink.

“Oh, no. Rest is all I need. I feel better already.”

“It is a bit warm. You shouldn’t overdo.”

Beth couldn’t decide if he was being polite or overbearing. She settled on the former. “It is a little warm. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Darcy smiled. “I’ll just keep you company until your next dance partner arrives.”

“That would be me,” said a voice behind him. “Thank you for taking care of Miss Beth.”

Darcy lost all expression at the sound of Whitehead’s voice. He turned slowly. “Miss Bennet is tired. She may wish to rest for a while, Whitehead.”

“Oh, no!” the lady cried. “I’m fine. George, give me your hand.” As Whitehead did so, Beth could’ve almost sworn that Darcy flinched. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Darcy.”

“Think nothing of it,” Darcy replied in a bored tone. “Enjoy your dance.” Before Beth’s confused eyes, Darcy turned on his heel and walked away.

“My good friend, Darcy,” George smirked, “charming as ever.” The two began dancing, but Beth was still thinking over Darcy’s abrupt change of countenance. Did it have something to do with George Whitehead?

“What disturbs you, Miss Beth?” George asked.

She looked up at him and blurted out, “Why did you come here?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Beth blinked. “To Rosings, I mean. My family moved here for land and a new start. Why did you come to Texas?”

“Ah. Well, I suppose it was to do good. Help those who had been put down all their lives. Right the injustice that was perpetrated here.”

“Help the former slaves?”

“Yes, you could say that.”

“But, there don’t seem to be any slaves around here—except for the Washingtons, and they moved here recently.”

“Well, when one is a public servant, one goes where one is assigned. But what makes you think there haven’t been slaves around here?”

“I haven’t seen any. You mean there are, or were? Did the Darcys own slaves?”

George sighed. “Most rich people in the South owned hundreds of slaves.”

“But what happened to them?”

“I don’t know. Ran off when they heard of Emancipation, I suppose. Would you want to live near your former owners?”

Beth had to admit she wouldn’t. She finished the dance, her mind in turmoil until George walked her back to her chair, Lily occupying the one next to it.

“Perhaps you are a bit tired,” George said. “May I get you something?”

“Beth, are you unwell?” asked her sister.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she protested.

“All right, then,” said Lily. “George, you promised me a dance!”

“Yes, I did. Please excuse us.”

Beth did not watch them walk away. She had too much on her mind.

Darcy was furious watching Beth dance with Whitehead. The only reason he didn’t explode was the expression on Beth’s face. It was apparent she wasn’t enjoying herself. Perhaps, he thought, she sees Whitehead for the snake he is. He knew he would have to explain to her why he feigned disinterest in her. It wouldn’t be good for Whitehead to suspect that Darcy had feelings for Beth until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

“Hey, Will, come over here an’ meet my newest friend.”

Darcy turned, his lips curling into a smile. “That will be a first, as you don’t have any friends.” He saw Fitz leaning against the makeshift bar with an Army officer, both with beers in their hands.

Fitz grinned. “This here’s Captain John Buford of the United States Cavalry, stationed at Fort Richardson. He’s here to protect our bacon from the savage natives that infest these here parts.”

Darcy extended his hand. “William Darcy.”