“May I speak honestly?” he blurted out.

Her color deepened, but Anne managed, “I’d prefer you did so, Lieutenant.”

Southland paused on the stairs. “Although we’ve known each other only a few days, I feel an acquaintance of many months — years even.”

“As do I,” Anne said anxiously.

“Miss De Bourgh,” he continued nervously. “With your permission, I would speak to your mother and begin a courtship.” Roman thought his heart might explode as he waited for her response.

“You wish to court me?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.

“Very much so,” Roman assured her.

Anne swayed in place and caught at the railing. He watched as she first paled and then flushed with color. “I… I would be honored,” she stammered.

Roman’s grin widened. “That pleases me more than you know.” Securing her arm to his side, he turned her toward the morning room.

“Might we step into a drawing room?” Anne asked. “I need a moment to recover my composure before I face everyone.”

“Certainly.” Leaving the door open behind them, Roman led her to the green room. “I never meant to upset you,” he said with concern.

Anne turned to face him. “I’m not upset, Lieutenant, but I admit you took me unawares,” she impulsively added.

“You must’ve recognized my interest,” he said softly.

“You mistake me for a woman of confidence,” Anne said ironically.

Roman took her by the shoulders and brought her closer to him. “Then you must become accustomed to my company. Once your mother grants her permission, I plan to make a nuisance of myself, at least, until you agree to accept my hand in marriage.”

“Her Ladyship’s permission?” Anne asked in disbelief. “Is it even possible?”

Roman held the same doubts, but he said, “Of course, it’s possible. I’ve already sought the advice of both your cousins.”

“You’ve spoken to the colonel and Mr. Darcy?” Her voice rose in disbelief. “Oh, my,” she gasped. “And my cousins believed Her Ladyship would agree?”

Southland’s frown lines deepened. “I would understand if you wished to withdraw your consent, Miss De Bourgh. I am without a title.”

“I never needed a title.”

“But you deserve one,” he countered.

“I cannot say what I deserve, but I’d wish for a joining of mutual companionship.”

“I’ll not speak words of love,” Roman said seriously. “We’ve known each other for but a few days; however, I’ll promise my fidelity.”


Anne nodded her acceptance. Like most women, she had always dreamed of finding love, but at the moment, she was willing to settle for a lot less. Roman Southland offered her a stable relationship. Although the lieutenant held an anomalous belief in their common fate, he presented an opportunity for a compatible joining. She could have a respectable, attractive husband and maybe even a family — children of her own. It was a dream recently rekindled with her meeting her cousin’s aide. “And I would promise you the same,” she said softly. She’d hold onto that dream. Now, she must find a way to convince her mother to accept the request of an ordinary gentleman. “Did my cousins offer suggestions of ways to earn Her Ladyship’s approval?”

“They made specific statements.” The way he chose his words told Anne that even Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had their doubts. Panic filled her. In all likelihood, her mother would deny her chance for marriage and a family. Anne would remain on the shelf and die a slow lonely death in obscurity. “I have upset you again,” Southland said with renewed concern.

Anne’s heart pounded in her ears as her thoughts raced. She had to think of something. Then a familiar scuff on the carpet outside sent her into action. She launched herself into the lieutenant’s arms, pulling his head down to hers. She’d never been kissed, nor did she have any idea how to go about it, but that didn’t matter at the moment.


Roman had anticipated Anne’s agitation. In fact, he shared many of the lady’s qualms. He’d no idea what he’d say to the autocratic Lady Catherine. He wouldn’t tell the great lady that he represented her daughter’s last marriage prospect. His honor wouldn’t permit him to do so. With wariness, he said, “I have upset you again.”

Anne’s countenance betrayed the array of emotions coursing through her, and Roman was considering what he must do to allay her fears when suddenly she cast herself into his arms and pulled his head toward hers. Roman didn’t think: he simply responded.

She pressed her lips together and shoved hard against his mouth, but Roman had actually expected as much. From what he knew of the lady, Miss De Bourgh had led a very sheltered life. Only last evening, he had imagined that he would have to teach her about the marriage bed’s pleasures.

At least, she is willing to kiss me, he thought as he eased the pressure and softened the intensity of their joining. Shifting Anne in his arms, he kissed her and gloried in how she allowed him to lead. He angled his mouth to take hers completely. Surprisingly, she didn’t stiffen in his embrace. Instead, the lady sagged, leaning heavily against him. Roman slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she rewarded him with a small gasp, but before he could deepen the kiss, a cold dose of reality entered the equation.


“Anne Catherine Margaret De Bourgh, what do you think you’re doing?” Lady Catherine exclaimed loudly. Several servants rushed to her aid, thinking Mr. Darcy’s aunt required assistance.

Descending the main staircase, Lady Catherine had anticipated her entrance into the morning room: She’d returned to Pemberley without benefit of an apology or a concession to the new Mrs. Darcy. It was more than for which she could’ve hoped. With Darcy’s last appeal, she’d considered how a reconciliation might be accomplished without her admitting guilt in their argument. Lady Catherine hated expressing regret. It was her plan to stay through the Boxing Day celebration and then take her leave. “Do not overstay the welcome,” she had murmured to the portrait gallery lining the wall. “Allow Darcy to wonder why I came. I can reclaim my sister’s family without losing face and without everyone knowing my real reason for being here.”

On the second floor, Lady Catherine paused to take in Pemberley’s glory and consider her family’s lasting influence. Her sister Lady Anne Darcy and her brother the Earl of Matlock had done well. She relished their combined impact on English society; they had created a legacy for the next generation. Matlock had Lindale and Fitzwilliam to which to leave the Earldom. Her sister’s son had taken Pemberley’s realm and had increased his esteemed father’s holdings. Only she had failed. Anne had never blossomed into a woman that a man would desire. Lady Catherine predicted an end to Rosings Park with her passing. Anne would never be able to handle it on her own. Early on, Catherine had feared Sir Lewis’s shyness would prevail in her daughter. It was why she’d insisted on making a match between Anne and Darcy. It had been a foolish idea between loving sisters when their children were but babes; however, the idea had grown into an obsession as Anne’s timidity had become more evident. The De Bourghs would lose Rosings without Darcy overseeing it, and so she’d counseled on behalf of the match.

Whispering came from what should’ve been an empty room, and she had stepped into the open doorway to investigate. Servants often took advantage of generous masters, especially on a solemn day such as this one. She’d put a stop to such insolence. However, what she beheld enflamed Lady Catherine’s temper. “Anne Catherine Margaret De Bourgh, what do you think you’re doing?” she barked.

Without preamble, Lady Catherine stormed into the room as the couple jumped apart. Never in all her years had she expected to find her daughter in an intimate embrace with a gentleman. Catherine didn’t know whether to celebrate or stand in horror. As was typical, she chose something less sedate than a celebratory moment, centering her disdain on the man who had just compromised Anne. “Lieutenant.” she snarled. “Have you no principles? You’ll unhand my daughter immediately.” Anne took a half step toward her in the lieutenant’s defense, but Lady Catherine’s cold glare warned her daughter to not interfere. “I ask again, Lieutenant. Have you no defense for your actions?”



“Perhaps, Lady Catherine, we could all have a seat and discuss this calmly,” she said with authority from the open doorway. With a flick of her wrist, Pemberley’s mistress sent the two maids and a footman on their separate ways and closed the door behind her. She quickly assayed the dilemma and discovered a very flushed Anne De Bourgh standing between her mother and Edward’s aide-de-camp. Immediately, she moved to defuse the situation. “Come, let me assist you, Your Ladyship.” She caught Lady Catherine about the waist and directed Darcy’s aunt to a chair. “Allow me to pour you some sherry,” she said as she shot a pleading glance to the lieutenant to move.

Southland reacted immediately. He scurried to a nearby tray and poured a glass and handed it to Elizabeth. “Drink some of this,” Elizabeth encouraged. “It shall calm your nerves.”

Lady Catherine intoned aristocratically, “I’m not the type to succumb to nerves, Mrs. Darcy.”

“No one believes you are,Your Ladyship,” Elizabeth said softly, “but it’ll give us a moment to compose our thoughts. Please do it for me.” Elizabeth knelt obediently beside Lady Catherine’s chair.

Giving the lieutenant a deathly glare, Lady Catherine reluctantly took a small sip of the potent drink.

“Thank you, Your Ladyship.” Elizabeth caught the woman’s hand and gave it a weak squeeze. Lady Catherine’s gaze fell on her, and for a brief moment, Elizabeth saw vulnerability.

Yet, a soft knock on the door drew their attention, and Darcy slipped into the room. Elizabeth observed the recognition in his eyes. “Mr. Nathan seemed to think Her Ladyship had suffered some sort of shock,” he said cautiously.

Darcy’s eyes rested on her face. He spoke of his aunt’s health, but he would take his cues from Elizabeth. “A bit of an exaggeration, I fear,” Elizabeth automatically rose and took a step toward him. It was a response of which she had become conscious upon Darcy’s return to Longbourn — when he had brought Bingley to Jane in order to right a wrong, Elizabeth had found herself physically drawn to him. No matter when she saw him, the moment Darcy stepped into a room, she moved closer. “Her Ladyship simply needs a moment. Perhaps you might escort your cousin and the lieutenant into the room next door while I see to your aunt.”