“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.

As Southland was a minor son, some would see his obsession as a means to better his position in life, but that was never the intent. Roman truly believed destiny had claimed him. Finding the De Bourghs at Pemberley provided an unusual opportunity, and he’d do all he could to bring fruition to his hopes.



“The second of five sisters,” Mrs. Joseph gasped. “How ever did your mother manage?”

“Mrs. Bennet has a tenacious spirit,” Darcy growled.

Elizabeth laughed ruefully. “My mother,” she explained, “did not consider Mr. Darcy a viable suitor.”

“You jest?” Mr. Joseph asked incredulously.

Darcy mockingly smiled. “It seems that Mrs. Darcy’s cousin Mr. Collins and his rectory on my aunt’s estate tempted my mother in marriage. She sat her sights on the dear clergyman for my wife’s mate.”

“Be fair, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth offered a half-hearted reprimand. “My mother thought only of my future. Besides, Mr. Collins shall inherit Longbourn, and Mrs. Bennet wished to preserve the family connection. And even I had no idea of your regard at the time.”

Mrs. Joseph squeezed Elizabeth’s hand in affection. “How did you ever find your way to Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy responded in Elizabeth’s stead. “Thankfully, my wife’s own tenacity won out. She refused her cousin’s plight and gave me an opportunity to win her hand.”

“A true love story,” Mrs. Joseph declared. “Just like in the Minerva Press novels of which Mr. Joseph says I shouldn’t pollute my mind.” She laughed softly. “But I’m of the persuasion that when a man loves a woman he can conceive of no other in her place; and even though men still run the world, it means nothing without that particular woman by his side.”

“That’s my wife,” Joseph chuckled. “The incurable romantic.”



Mr. Manneville bowed to the Bingleys and to Kitty Bennet. “Might I join you?”

“Certainly.” Bingley gestured to a nearby chair. “We’re enjoying some early morning tea. Mrs. Bingley must work up her appetite,” he said with loving amusement. “Would you care for some?”

The man’s nose rose in displeasure. “I would prefer coffee if it’s available.”

Jane Bingley motioned a footman forward. “Allow me to order some, Mr. Manneville. I fear neither Mr. Bingley nor I have developed a taste for the beverage.”

Manneville straightened his jacket as he sat. “What of you, ladies?” He addressed Caroline and Kitty. “Have either of you taken to the so-called bitter taste of coffee?”

Kitty answered immediately. “Although Mr. Darcy’s staff always makes it available, I’ve not had the nerve to sample the brew. It does have a robust aroma though.Very tempting.”