Pemberley Ranch - Jack Caldwell [51]
“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.”
The officer, tall and dark, shook his hand with a firm grip. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Darcy. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Fitz laughed. “Nothin’ good, I assume.”
Buford smiled. “Like I’ll get the straight story out of you.”
Darcy leaned on the bar, signaling for a beer. “You sound like you know each other.”
“Yes and no,” Fitz said. “Buford here was a blue-belly colonel chasin’ my ass all over the Shenandoah Valley during the late unpleasantness.”
“And a slippery man you were, Major.” Buford turned to Darcy. “I rode with Custer.”
“You stayed in the army,” Darcy observed.
“It’s my profession. I resumed my permanent rank after the war.” He looked Darcy right in the eye. “And you, sir?”
“Texas Legion, Vicksburg. I’ve seen the elephant.3”
Buford nodded. “Thought so. I’ve got a few ex-Confederates in my company. Good men. Ex-officers, although they’re enlisted now. Regulations,” he shrugged.
“And you’re at Fort Richardson. Not with Custer and the Seventh Cavalry,” Darcy observed.
Buford lost a bit of his good cheer. “No, I’m no longer with Colonel Custer. I find my current assignment much more to my liking.” What was left unsaid hung over the room.
Fitz tried to change the subject. “Such as raising flags at parties?